


A Drarry Smut Fic with Fake Dating

by TheUnamazingTrashKing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, bottom!Draco, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:31:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9646451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnamazingTrashKing/pseuds/TheUnamazingTrashKing
Summary: Draco mistakenly and unknowingly convinces his parents that he and Harry Potter are dating.Edit: This was meant to be short, 2/3 chapters, but things are getting out of hand Fast





	1. Chapter 1

_Harry Potter is a moron._ This was a simple and understandable assumption made by Draco Malfoy. He was proud, loud, obnoxious and just generally annoying. The only reason anyone liked him at all was because of that stupid scar on his head and something about his mother’s eyes, which meant a grand total of nothing to Draco. Sure he was also kind of cute and years of flying left him pretty well built, but he was still a short, ruffle haired moron who probably couldn’t tell the difference between a bowtruckle and a hippogriff.

Despite all of this, Draco required Harry Potter’s assistance. Now Draco did not consider himself someone who needed things from others. Actually he would rather refer to himself as independent, regardless of what anyone else thought. Regardless, he had messed up, royally screwed himself even. He had convinced his parents not to set him up with a date on the grounds he had someone he was already intending on seeing. It wasn’t that he had anything against his parents’ taste, just that he had never found girls overly interesting. He, in fact had no one and when asked for their name, Draco had panicked. It was the most stupid thing he could do in that moment, but he said “Harry.” This, of course, led his parents to immediately assume he meant Harry Potter and before Draco could even think to deny it he was being chastised by his mother for never coming out to her sooner and his father was demanding that Potter come over for dinner as soon as possible. It was certainty not the response he expected, but it wasn’t a bad one. He didn’t have to go on an arranged date with a girl who was, frankly, about as entertaining as a piece of bread and equally as attractive, so it was technically a win. It did leave him with the small issue of Harry Potter being expected at his house for dinner. 

This is what left Draco Malfoy standing at Harry Potter’s desk. He was an Auror now and to say the uniform looked good on him was a bit of an understatement. Despite the shiny new uniform, he still had that messy ruffled hair and stupid scar on his head. Draco would be a liar if he said that the he thought that Potter should actually wear the jacket properly instead of leaving it open or that he should take his feet off the table. Somehow these things just seemed to add up to create a relaxed kind of sex appeal that Draco would never admit to feeling for a second. 

“Isn’t that jacket meant to be done up?” Draco asked when he entered the room. 

“What are you doing here, Malfoy? Need me to arrest you?” He was definitely joking, but for some reason the image of Harry putting him in handcuffs crossed his mind. It was an unexpected image, but not a bad one by any means. He wasn’t going to let that show through his façade of boredom and pure displeasure at being there, no matter how much the git grinned with, admittedly, sort of distracting lips. 

“No,” Draco replied as deadpan as he could manage. “I’m afraid I-” His pride caught the words in his throat, he pulled at his cuffs before continuing, “-I need your help?” 

The smile was gone from Harry’s lips, and he seemed mildly concerned. He also looked mostly suspicious, but that was expected, the unmistakable concern was not. Potter’s eyes trailed up and down Draco’s body, making him suddenly and intensely self-conscious. “What do you need?” 

“I need you to come over for dinner tomorrow night,” Draco replied, choosing to look at the wall to his left instead of Potter. 

“Why?” Harry asked. 

Draco felt inexplicably angry about this. He pushed that down and instead attempted to explain, “I have, mistakenly and unknowingly, convinced my parents,” He took a deep breath and then finished the sentence as quickly as possible, “That we are dating.” He shot a glance to Harry to see his mouth hanging open in surprise. Draco quickly shot his eyes back away and heard Harry laughing. Clearly one of them was finding this hysterical. 

“You’re joking, right?” Harry asked. Draco shot him a pained look that confirmed that he was, in fact, not joking. Harry threw his head back, howling with laughter. “Why can’t you just tell them that we aren’t dating?” 

“They insist each time that they aren’t concerned by my dating you and that I needn’t hid it from them.” Harry didn’t seem able to make any noise for a second. He was just sitting there with his head back and his shoulders shaking. He leaned back in his chair, laughing so hard that he fell to the floor. Draco felt his lips twitch up in a small grin seeing that. 

Ron rushed in after hearing the loud thud of Harry hitting the floor. He looked a little dazed, but there was a hint of confusion on his features when he saw Harry on the floor practically squealing with laughter and Draco standing there with a small grin. 

“What the bloody hell did you do to him?” Ron snarled at Draco. Draco’s smile fell and he shook his head. 

“I didn’t _do_ anything,” He replied defensively. Potter had finally calmed down a little and looked up to them, another long breath of laughter forcing its way up when he saw Draco. 

“Like _hell_ you didn’t,” Ron growled. 

“He,” Harry started and then had to stop as another laughing fit started up again, “He told his parents that we’re dating.” 

Ron seemed to only find the idea repulsive and sneered at Draco, “What’d you do that for?” 

Draco’s eyes had never rolled so hard in his life. He thought they might roll into the back of his head, “That isn’t at all what happened.” Harry was now snorting. Draco hadn’t actually heard Harry laughing like this before and he found the sound surprisingly pleasant. Ron was looking at Harry as if he were mad, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face. “I unknowingly convinced them that I was dating Potter.” 

“How’d you manage that?” 

“Do you know what unknowingly means?” Draco asked in retort. A dark shadow fell over Ron’s face for a second, then he stepped out of Harry’s office. 

Draco felt a little relieved that he was gone only to hear his voice magically amplified so that, he guessed, everyone in the ministry could hear it, “Draco Malfoy has _unknowingly_ convinced his parents that he and Harry Potter are dating!” Draco was ready to murder him; however, he was distracted by Harry. 

“I’m crying, oh my god,” Harry wheezed, wiping at his eyes while he stood up and set his chair back up. “Oh my god, I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.” He still had a stupid grin on his face and every time he’d look at Draco it got a little bigger and he seemed to hold back another laughing fit. “Will you just come to dinner tomorrow night?” Draco finally asked. Harry snorted a little but nodded. “Come around at six. Don’t be late and try to wear something nice,” He looked Harry over, “Assuming you have anything nice to wear.” He didn’t wait to see if Harry took offense and left. That night, six o’clock rolled around and Harry Potter had not arrived the very second the hand struck. Draco was suddenly so very sure that Harry was not coming. Two seconds later there was a knock at the door and while a sudden anxiety tightened his stomach he tried to assure himself it wasn’t Potter, that he was not coming and that he would open the door to someone completely unexpected. He opened the door and there was Potter, dressed in his best, which was… decent. He certainly looked amazing in it, but jeans and suit jacket isn’t quite what Draco had in mind. Still he was, if nothing else, in character. 

“Harry,” Draco said with a lot more relief than he intended. 

“Draco,” Harry replied. He came in and glanced over to where Lucius was standing before putting his hand on Draco’s waist and pressing a small kiss to his cheek. His lips were lightly chapped but still soft and warm. Draco’s head was swimming in shock, pleasant surprise and the reality that he had just been kissed by Harry Potter. 

Dinner was filled with awkward, tense conversation. Harry had been on the opposite side of the war to the Malfoy family and the knowledge that they would have defiantly killed each other if given the chance definitely hung heavily over every conversation. During one of the may silent pauses, Draco became aware that Potter wasn’t a great actor. He kept fighting down a stupid grin or coughing to hide the occasional laugh and Draco knew exactly what it was about. He had to find this entire situation rather funny, he had found Draco’s confession of the evets leading up to this moment utterly, breath takingly hilarious, so why wouldn’t he be holding back a fit of giggles right now. 

“Something funny, Mr Potter?” Lucius asked, having noticed exactly what Draco had. 

Harry smirked a little more freely now, “Just a joke Draco told me. I can’t get it out of my head.” 

“Then please; share,” Lucius encouraged a little more enthusiastically than Draco thought he meant to. 

“Yes, Harry, tell them,” Draco said, letting his eyebrows raise briefly. Harry spotted it, he was sure. 

“No, no, Draco,” Harry replied with his grin growing a little, “It’s your joke, you tell them.” 

“I would, but you’re the funny one,” Draco replied, trying not to grit his teeth. 

“I hate to disagree,” Harry replied seemingly having the same issue Draco did with not gritting his teeth, “But I insist you tell them.” 

Draco couldn’t help clicking his tongue in frustration. “I would, however I don’t remember how it goes.” Harry seemed to know where this was going and briefly let his eyes squint into a scowl, “But since you can’t seem to forget it, why don’t you tell them.” Draco could see on Harry’s face that he had won and a satisfied grin grew on his face. 

Harry cleared his throat and then started, “Well, a man and his girlfriend are talking. They both have something they want to tell each other. The man says, “We’ve been together for three years now. I think you’re perfect and I love you so much. You mean the world to me,”” Draco was suddenly aware that Harry was holding eye contact with him, but he wasn’t sure if it held any actual significance or if he was just trying to be intimidating. ““I think I would die if you left me. That’s why I bought you that car and that house and all those dresses. I love giving you gifts because of the way you smile when you get them. So today I bought something special for you, I bought you a ring. I want you to be my wife,” Then his girlfriend says,” He looked to Draco expectantly. 

Draco had to deliver a punch line he didn’t know. He really wanted to reach across the table and choke him. Instead he kept the eye contact and said, “I want to murder you.” Harry smiled at this although his smile faded a little when Lucius and Narcissa both started laughing. He glanced at them and Draco followed suit. It wasn’t even fake laughter, they seemed to think it was priceless comedy gold. 

When dinner was over they all started drinking wine. Draco was grateful for that, the wine made his parents a little more talkative and settled the awkward silences. Eventually Narcissa put on some music and she and Lucius danced around the room together. Harry and Draco were quite comfortable sitting back watching in silence, until Narcissa began insisting that they join in. Harry was quick to assure her that he was comfortable where he was, a little too quick. 

“Do you even know how to dance?” Draco asked. Harry went a little red and Draco thought back to the yule ball, or more importantly Harry’s abysmal dancing at the yule ball. 

“I mean, I technically know the steps,” Harry replied defensively and Draco couldn’t help from letting out a snorting laugh. Narcissa was pulling Harry up before he had any chance to refuse. From Draco’s experience, his mother wasn’t someone you argue with. He watched while Harry was taught how to dance, occasionally laughing when Harry fumbled, which was pretty much the whole time. 

Finally, Narcissa decided that he was good enough to dance with Draco. Lucius and Narcissa were dancing (and drinking) circles around Harry and Draco. Harry was meant to be leading, with his distractingly warm hand resting on Draco’s waist, but he stepped on Draco so many times that Draco took over. It made it a little easier to dance since Harry was shorter and just had to follow what Draco did. That didn’t mean that he stopped stepping on Draco or that he stopped just being straight up confused but it certainly helped. What didn’t help was that they were still drinking. They were both on a light buzz by now and Harry seemed to be a bit of a sleepy kind of tipsy, although they were steadily moving out of the realm of tipsy. Draco, admittedly was pretty much exactly the same. This caused the two of them to move ever so slightly closer every now and again in some attempt to hold each other up so they didn’t fall, until they were basically chest to chest. Narcissa noticed this and, probably because she was drunk, demanded that Harry spend the night. She insisted that he couldn’t get home in his current state and then ushered the two of them upstairs to Draco’s room, shutting the door firmly behind them. 

Now they were both alone in Draco’s room. Draco was still buzzing a little and couldn’t help a little laugh as he leaned against the door. Harry, however, was not laughing. Instead he just seemed to be standing there looking a little dazed. 

“This was a lot more fun than I expected,” Harry said with a small laugh. 

Draco wasn’t really listening but nodded. He was fumbling a little with his jacket button until he successfully got it off and let himself flop on the bed. Harry followed suit and flopped on the bed beside him. The two glanced at each other and started laughing softly. Harry was mostly on his side, but Draco was lying flat on his back. 

“I can’t believe you convinced them we were dating,” Harry muttered. 

“Well, I mean, I think we just kind of just reassured them,” Draco replied in the same muttered tone. He glanced up to Harry. His face looked warm, slightly flushed red and filled by a grin. His lips looked soft too, even if they were a little chapped. It took Draco a moment to realise that he was staring at Harry’s lips and quickly redirected his eyes to the ceiling. 

“Draco,” Harry’s voice sounded a little hoarse. Draco glanced back to see Harry’s green eyes trained on his own. His lips felt suddenly isolated and tingled with a desire that he couldn’t quite put a name to for a moment. He felt his face turn bright red and was hit with the realisation that he wanted Potter to kiss him. He really, really wanted Harry to lean over and kiss him, but they just stared at each other. Draco felt his breathing pick up a little and he watched long enough to see Harry’s breathing was similar. He felt so sure that Harry was going to kiss him, he could practically feel Harry’s lips on his, yet Harry wasn’t moving. The was about to pass, Harry wasn’t going to kiss him. Then why had he called for his attention? _He’s a git._

“Harry?” Draco finally asked, a little confused. This must have been all Harry was waiting for and he moved forward and pressed his lips to Draco’s. They were just as soft as Draco thought they would be. Even if they were a little chapped. Draco’s head was a moment behind his reality and he realised that he wasn’t kissing back. Harry was pulling away just a little, but Draco caught him before he could go too far. 

Harry seemed to gain a confidence boost after that and eagerly kissed him. Draco was about shift to his side so it would be a little more comfortable when Harry practically climbed on top of him. Draco’s breath hitched in his throat, feeling Harry’s legs straddling him and the bend in the mattress where Harry was holding himself up with one arm. His other hand was on Draco’s waist; Draco could feel the heat through his shirt. He let his own hands raise, one curling up into Harry’s messy hair and the other on Harry’s back. His hair was soft and slipped through his fingers as they curled. He felt Harry’s tongue flick over his lips and couldn’t hold back a soft moan when he opened his mouth. He started tentatively letting his own tongue move a little to meet Harry’s. Without much warning, Harry stopped kissing him. 

The two stared at each other for a moment, Draco could feel his own lips were red and swollen and saw Harry’s were in a similar state. This caused his stomach to tighten a little and he was aware that his pants felt a little tight too. It didn’t help that Harry was sitting right over his crotch. A smirk appeared on Harry’s face, as if confirming that he was aware that Draco was hard. He leaned down to kiss him again, but it was fleeting. Instead he started to kiss Draco’s cheek and toward his jaw. He stopped again and undid a few of the buttons on Draco’s shirt before pressing his lips to Draco’s neck. 

Draco felt his mind go momentarily blank while Harry’s tongue massaged into his neck. The hand he had buried in Harry’s hand softly tugged and he could have sworn he heard Harry growl. If not, then it was a moan caught in his throat. Either way, it made Draco bite his lip. It also made Harry pull back. Draco felt a pout on the edges of his lips and quickly fought it back. His eyes were trained on Harry’s, which were positively smouldering. Harry shifted and his thigh rubbed against Draco’s crotch, causing him to jump up in surprise, but luckily he had been able to hold in the whimper. He looked to Harry to see what looked like a little pout on his face. Draco was thoroughly confused, but the hand that had been on his waist slipped down between his legs. 

Draco barely held back his moan, it came out as a breathy sigh. The feeling of Harry’s hand through his pants, directly on his dick was steadily causing him to lose control over his voice. Harry leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “I want to hear you,” with hot breath. Draco actually titled his head back and nearly moaned just at that. Harry noticed too. He palmed Draco through his pants and muttered in his ear, “Let me hear you moan.” A small noise escaped his throat, not quite a moan so much a heavy sigh. Harry hummed in his ear in a slightly disappointed tone. 

“What if my parents walk past or something?” Draco asked with quiet concern. “Plus, I mean,” His brain felt a little slow, but he forced it to work enough for him to say what was on his mind, “We’re both drunk we shouldn’t be…” He trailed off, gesturing between them. Harry rolled off him and laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Right, yeah,” He muttered. Draco still felt tight in his pants, but he ignored it, instead opting to nod along with Harry. “Right,” he muttered again. 

“I mean, I don’t want you to wake up in the morning and realise what we did and regret it or anything,” Draco said, and Harry nodded. 

“Right, I wouldn’t want you to regret anything like that either.” 

“I mean, I probably wouldn’t,” Draco grumbled before he could stop himself. His brain was too slow from the alcohol to realise he had even said it out loud until Harry questioned him. 

“You wouldn’t?” He asked. Draco glanced over and felt a blush creep onto his face. He didn’t respond at first but Potter started prodding. “You said you wouldn’t, didn’t you?” 

“So what if I did?” Draco finally replied. He tried to ignore how flushed his face felt. 

“I wouldn’t either,” Harry said. The words took a second for Draco to register. He wouldn’t regret it… Really? That didn’t seem right. He shifted to his side and stared at Harry, attempting to appear sceptical but he could feel how much it probably looked like a pout. 

“What makes you so sure?” Harry grinned at this and kissed him again. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Harry replied when they broke away. Draco actually jumped a little at the words, he was so genuinely surprised. What could possibly lead Harry Potter to want to do _this_ with _him_? The idea was too ridiculous for Draco’s drunk brain to really comprehend. Harry, however, didn’t seem concerned. In fact, he looked relieved. He kissed Draco again. 

It didn’t take long for them to end up back in their previous position, although this time Harry had lifted Draco’s legs up over his waist. The position was a little weird at first, but after a little shifting Draco felt Harry’s hard dick through their pants. Harry, obviously, also felt Draco shifting over him as he let out a small moan that made Draco’s heart beat a little faster and he even found a similar sound spilling past his lips. His dick was already painfully hard and straining under his pants which Potter happened to be rubbing with his hand. 

“Is that all it takes to make you moan?” Harry asked in that low, husky voice that Draco was enjoying way too much. Before he knew it, Harry was against his ear making soft moaning sounds against his ear. At first they were genuinely hot and Draco was practically panting, but they steadily got a little bit higher until Draco couldn’t stop himself from laughing. 

He gently smacked Harry’s shoulder, “Cut it out, you sound ridiculous.” Harry was laughing as well as he pulled back so they could look at each other, but still managed to see an opportunity and gave Draco’s dick a firm pump through his pants. Draco’s laugh momentarily mixed with a groan that he could only muffle by clapping a hand over his mouth. Harry was still laughing and he brought his mouth back down to Draco’s neck where his hot breath mixed with his warm lips. 

Draco started shifting his hips again, feeling Harry’s dick rubbing against the underside of his ass was honestly one of the best things he felt. Pretty soon he was steadily bucking his hips up and grinding on Harry’s dick which left Harry, surprisingly, a little speechless. It reduced him to a few soft moans and heavy breathing which Draco was definitely enjoying. As if to stop his own groaning he started kissing Draco again. Eventually he sat back so his weight was on his legs and not his arm and put his hands on Draco’s hips to stop them. 

“Is everything alright?” Draco asked, suddenly concerned. Had he done something wrong? Harry hadn’t shown any signs of wanting him to stop, in fact he thought that Harry seemed rather eager for him to keep going. 

“Everything’s fine, you just need to stop doing that,” Harry answered. Draco sat up so he was resting on his elbows and looked him over; his face was red, his breathing seemed fast and he was moving his crotch away from Draco. It took a second but his brain seemed to catch up to what he was seeing. 

“Merlin’s beard, Potter,” Draco teased. 

“What?” Harry panted. 

“Are you done already?” He lightly poked Harry’s stomach, “You haven’t even gotten your shirt off and your already finished.” 

“I didn’t,” Harry replied a little defensively. 

Draco poked him again, “Oh yeah _sure,_ you need some help cleaning up old man?” Harry didn’t reply, instead he slipped his hand down Draco’s pants and grabbed his dick, making him stop to gasp. 

“I didn’t come in my pants,” Harry said, leaning back down and pressing a brief kiss to Draco’s lips, “But you will.” 

Draco scoffed, “I doubt-” He was cut off as Harry gave his dick a small squeeze which caused him to tilt his head back and moaned. 

“What were you saying, Draco?” Harry asked. Draco let out a whine in reply. He was absurdly close. He was ridiculously, fantastically and laughably close and Harry’s firm hand seemed merciless in his pants. The pressure was building so quickly and he tried his best to hold back, but his hips were already bucking up into Harry’s hand. “God, you look so amazing like this,” Harry muttered. Draco wouldn’t ever admit that Harry’s voice was what brought him over the edge. He also wouldn’t admit that he moaned so loudly that Harry had to kiss him to muffle the sound. 

Draco settled down from the high, steadying his breathing and fetching his wand from his bedside table to vanish the evidence of what had just happened. He was suddenly rather exhausted, although that exhaustion was also mixed with an intense and burning embarrassment. Harry was grinning like the git he was and he kept kissing Draco’s neck and lips. 

“You’re the worst,” Draco muttered. He was a little annoyed that harry had successfully made him come in his pants. Regardless, he thought that he should return the favour and slipped his own hand into Harry’s pants. His hard cock now throbbing in his hand, Draco sat up a little and started stroking. Harry was quick to remove his trousers and underwear so that Draco couldn’t get the same satisfaction he had, which left Draco with a little pout, but also with the full sight of Harry’s legs and dick. 

It was a marvellous sight in Draco’s opinion. His legs were firmly muscled and his hard dick sitting up felt somewhat tempting in ways Draco wasn’t sure he could explain. He wasn’t monstrously large or anything, in fact he was probably only average size, which was in a way comforting to Draco who was also average. They sat up making out while Draco stroked Harry’s dick, applying and taking away pressure at certain points. He made a mental note every time Harry’s breath hitched or he moaned and started to focus a little more on those places. Harry came a lot more quietly than Draco but it clearly took some effort for him to muffle the sound behind his lips. 

Once again, Draco vanished the evidence and the two laid down on the bed. Harry had elected to simply remove his shirt rather than put his pants back on and Draco was not about to start complaining. They stayed up and talked for a few minutes, but they were both so clearly tired that they let the conversation drop off and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco woke up with a mild headache to the smell of sweat, musk and skin. His face was buried a little awkwardly into a hard chest and his breath was, for lack of a better term, compromised. His nose was squashed and his lips were practically touching the skin of the chest in front of him. His arm was trapped under the body in his bed and completely dead. He pulled away enough to see dark messy hair and an unmistakable lightning scar. Harry Potter was in his bed. Last night’s shenanigans slowly trickled into the forefront of his mind; as did the fact that Harry Potter was completely naked. Their legs were intertwined and he was being held in place by one of Harry’s arms. How did he managed to get his face buried in Potter’s chest when Harry was the short one? A little spike of annoyance raised its head. He tried to retrieve his arm from under Harry only to accidently stir him into half wakefulness. He seemed more concerned with keeping Draco pressed against him than actually waking up though. Draco eventually managed to rescue his arm, untangle their legs and rolled over with the intention of climbing out of bed, only to have Harry pull him back and snuggle into him.

Now they were spooning and Draco could feel Harry’s morning wood pressing into the small of his back and Harry’s lips buried in his hair. He was also still pinned down by Harry’s arms. Maybe this would have been alright if Draco didn’t really, really need to pee. He tried to squirm his way out of Harry’s arms only to receive a low grumble from a not quite half awake Potter. He pushed Harry’s arm off him and finally escaped, but he didn’t miss the small grabbing motion Harry made at him before grumbling and rolling over. 

After using the toilet, Draco considered going back to bed with Harry and snuggling with him for a while. Then he considered how weird it might be if Harry woke up to them cuddling. He might not even remember all the events of last night, or maybe he would take a second to and that second was too awkward to even consider allowing it to exist. Not to mention, if he was aware that he had been half awoken by Draco getting up he might wake up and _know_ that Draco had crawled back into bed with him. The idea of that was already leaving a flush on his cheeks. Luckily, he didn’t have to consider what to do about the naked Potter in his bed, as the naked Potter had apparently migrated to the bathroom. Harry used the toilet while Draco stood there wondering if Potter was even aware that he was standing there. 

Apparently he was as he turned around with a slight grin and said, “’Morning.” 

“Breakfast should be ready downstairs if you’re hungry,” Draco replied. He was very aware of the fact that he just standing there and quickly started doing something, not really paying attention to what. Harry came over with a stupid grin. 

“So,” He said, his eyes traveling over Draco, “Last night was…” He trailed off a little and Draco felt his shoulders tense. 

“Weird,” Draco finished. 

“I was going to say fun,” Harry replied, a small crease forming between his eyebrows. 

Draco flushed bright red, “Yeah, that too.” 

Harry’s dumb smile returned. “Two questions,” Harry said and Draco couldn’t help shooting him a slightly suspicious look, “Firstly, do you always brush your teeth _before_ you eat?” Draco shot a glance to the mirror where he saw that he was indeed brushing his teeth. Apparently in his desperate moment to not look like he was just awkwardly standing around he had started brushing his teeth. He felt his hand clamp a little more firmly around his toothbrush. This was Potter’s fault, because _no_ he _didn’t_ usually brush his teeth before he ate breakfast because he wasn’t some goddam _heathen_ that ruined their food like that. However, he couldn’t _say_ that because he would look like an idiot. Instead he shot Potter a weird look as if to say “Don’t you?” 

“Second question,” Harry continued clearly getting the message, “What exactly happened last night?” Draco nearly dropped his toothbrush. Harry didn’t remember? But he was the one who came in and said that last night was fun? What a git, he didn’t even know what happened? He must have been more of a lightweight than Draco thought. These thoughts and his pure horror must have shown on his face as Harry was quick to say, “I mean, I remember the dancing and you coming in your pants,” Draco scowled a little, if there was one thing he was hoping Potter forgot it was that, “You giving me a hand job, but nothing after that.” 

The relief Draco felt was indescribable, “We went to sleep.” He didn’t actually forget anything; he was just a moron. 

“Oh,” Harry laughed. His eyes were traveling over Draco again and insecurity reared its head. “We should keep doing this,” He said. 

“You want us to keep standing in my bathroom?” Draco asked, putting as much sarcasm into his voice as possible. 

Harry smirked and said, “I just want us to keep fucking.” Draco nearly choked on his toothbrush. “I mean, if you want to.” 

“I, uh, I do,” Draco replied feeling his face going bright red. Harry’s eyes were still flicking over him and he was aware that there was a sort of hunger in them. “What, right now?” Draco asked after Harry had been staring at him for a few minutes. 

“What? No, I just,” Harry flushed red and laughed a little. It was kind of adorable and Draco couldn’t help a little grin forming on his face. He finished brushing his teeth and they returned to his bedroom where he became aware that he was still wearing last night’s clothes. He made Harry face the other way while he got dressed, because unlike _someone_ he wasn’t completely comfortable walking around naked. 

Harry had also gotten dressed at the same time, although Draco did turn around and realise that Harry had a perfect view of him through a mirror nearby. He felt his face grow hot but didn’t mention it, knowing Harry wouldn’t either. They headed downstairs to see a very hungover Narcissa and Lucius. The house elf had made some kind of drink that Narcissa was downing. It was a dirty green and a little chunky but her hangover seemed to clear almost immediately. 

“Harry, Draco, good morning,” She said when she spotted them. Lucius was handed a similar drink to Narcissa’s and downed it with a look of pure disgust but his hangover obviously cleared just as quickly as his wife’s. 

“Harry, did you spend the night here?” Lucius asked. 

“Yes,” Harry replied a little awkwardly. “I should be going,” He said, pointing toward the front door. 

“Nonsense, nonsense,” Lucius replied, “Please sit down, have something to eat,” The house elf was quick to supply Lucius with another two glasses of the hangover cure, “Have a glass of,” He looked at it and shrugged and said, “I’m not completely sure what this is,” before handing one to Harry and one to Draco. 

Harry looked in the glass with clear concern and looked over to Draco, obviously unsure. Honestly his uncertain face was a little cute. Draco tapped his glass against Harry’s and they both lifted their drinks. It tasted like dragon shit and had a weirdly bubbly texture, but Draco’s pounding head subsided completely and it had a slightly minty after taste. 

Harry didn’t look nearly as refreshed as the others and put the glass down with a look of pure repulsion, “That is, by far, the worst thing I have ever put in my mouth.” Draco snorted a little laugh at that. 

Breakfast wasn’t as tense as dinner the night before. There wasn’t any desire from anyone to really speak, which relaxed the air around them into easy and light morning discussions. Most of the talking was done by Lucius and Narcissa as they quietly discussed how much they drank and who got black out first. As it turned out, neither of them actually blacked out, although Narcissa did start getting a little fuzzy toward the end of the night. 

Harry used the floo network to get straight to the ministry. He already had a uniform in his office for emergency situations like this. He was about to call himself lucky that Ron wasn’t in yet to see him wearing the clothes he left in only to open the door to his office and see Ron sitting on his desk. 

“Aren’t those the clothes you left in?” Ron asked. His face dropped into a look of shock and repulsion, “No!” He cried, getting up from the desk, “You didn’t!” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry replied, but there was a grin on his face that he couldn’t fight off that suggested very strongly that he did, in fact, know what Ron was talking about. 

“You slept at the Malfoy’s place didn’t you?” Harry shook his head, but his grin must have given him away because Ron gave him a light shove, “You did! Tell me you at least stayed in a guest room!” 

“Of course,” Harry replied but was immediately smacked on the shoulder. 

“You _liar_!” Ron’s face went dark. “You didn’t do anything with him did you?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry replied, trying to fight down his grin. Ron let out a horrified gasp. 

“You _did_! How could you? He’s the enemy!” Ron looked utterly repulsed and gave Harry another shove. 

“I just said I didn’t!” Harry cried defensively. 

“Maybe with your mouth, but everything else says you did.” 

Harry looked Ron briefly, “What does that even mean?” 

“See, _that_ , that was genuine confusion that was, but when you said you didn’t know what I was talking about, when you said you slept in another room, they were lies Harry, you fucked Draco Malfoy.” 

“I mean,” Harry looked away from Ron, already feeling his face growing hot and could see Ron’s rage, “I feel like ‘fucked’ isn’t quite the right word.” 

Ron sat back down on the desk and stared at him angrily for a moment. “Tell me exactly what you did.” 

Harry looked at him and then shook his head, “I don’t think you want to know.” 

Ron looked pained at this, “You’re right, I don’t. Just,” He took a deep breath, “Tell me anyway.” 

“Okay, well, I went over, we had dinner and then we started drinking and dancing.” Harry said. 

“Wait, you danced?” Ron asked. 

“Yeah, I’m still really bad at it.” 

“You danced with his mum or something, right?” Harry shook his head. “Tell me you were at least the _lead.”_ Harry blushed a little and shook his head again. Ron sighed and then nodded for him to continue. 

“Right, so then we went up to his room,” He stopped while Ron let out a disgusted grunt and waited for him to nod before continuing, “Then we were kind of just lying on his bed for a little while. Then we started making out.” 

Ron shuddered but demanded more information anyway, “Who started it?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Who started it? You know what I mean!” 

Harry looked to the ground briefly and then said quietly, “Me.” 

“What?” 

“Me, I started it,” Harry said a little louder. 

Ron looked like he had been shot. “Why?” 

“Why?” Harry repeated. “Because I mean,” He shrugged, “He’s hot.” Ron gagged a little at that. “Do you want to know or should I stop right now?” 

“No, keep going,” Ron grumbled. 

Harry sighed and continued, “After we’d made out for a little while, I,” He coughed into his hand, “Might have put my hand between his legs.” Ron tilted his head, closed his eyes and let out a pained groan. He nodded again after a second. “Then, actually you might not hate this part, he pushed me off and said that we shouldn’t be doing what we were doing.” 

Ron’s jaw practically hit the floor, “He said what?” 

“Yeah, he said he didn’t want me to regret doing something just because I was drunk.” 

“And then it ended there, right?” Ron asked. Harry didn’t look at him, instead electing to stare off to the side, “Well, no. He kind of said he wouldn’t regret anything and then I told him I wouldn’t regret anything and then we ended up right back where we were.” Ron look deflated. “Uh, then there was a bit of grinding,” Ron huffed a little, “Then I gave him a hand job in his pants.” Ron covered his face and let out a soft groan. Harry started to continue but Ron shook his head, letting out another loud moan of pain. 

Harry waited while Ron sat there, covering his face and whining softly. Finally, he sat up and said, “You said Malfoy came in his pants?” 

“Yes,” Harry replied with a small grin. Ron still looked pained and grossed out but a small grin still won over his features. He nodded and Harry continued, “Then I, uh, well he-” He wasn’t sure how he should tell Ron about what it felt to have Draco’s slender fingers wrapped around his cock, moving carefully, applying just the right amount of pressure at almost perfect times to make him cry out in pure ecstasy. He could feel his face growing red as he thought back to the feeling of coming in Draco’s fist. “He returned the favour,” Harry finally said. 

“You didn’t,” Ron paused and looked him over briefly, “You didn’t come in your pants too, right?” 

“No, dude, no. I took them off.” Harry replied, his face still burning. Ron seemed mildly relieved but still mostly unhappy. He stood up and Harry assumed he’d be leaving, only for Ron to lean in close, grab the collar of his shirt and breath in deeply. Harry leaned back as far as he could and asked, “What are you doing?” 

Ron looked like he had just smelt a pile of shit and dropped Harry’s shirt, “You even _smell_ like the prick.” 

Harry gathered up the same bit of shirt and sniffed it. He smelt mostly like himself, but there was a hint of something else. Something that just screamed _expensive_. “Oh my god, you’re right,” Harry replied in mild shock. 

Harry spent a large portion of the day in his office, his mind occasionally flicking back to Draco and the previous night. He had a tendency to get a little hot under the collar whenever he thought about it and had to conjure up some other image, like his aunt Petunia. Not wearing anything that would be considered scandalous, just her face was enough to ward away any arousal. 

Finally, Harry was home from work. His apartment was a small, one room place (not including the bathroom) that look boring and bland and it was perfect. First of all, nobody in the building knew that he was Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Most of them just thought he was Harry Potter, the weird guy who owned an owl, but was otherwise pretty alright, since he never caused a fuss by playing loud music or fighting with his neighbours. Nobody was overly friendly to him, but no one was nasty to him either. They were all neutral, normal. He wasn’t locked away, hidden as an embarrassment and ridiculed constantly, but he wasn’t constantly stared at and judge depending on what people expected of him, or, worst of all, adored by people who actually didn’t care about him at all and just wanted to meet the chosen one. He wasn’t in the news, he wasn’t popular, he was just like everyone else. It felt bloody wonderful. 

Harry flopped down on his bed and sighed heavily, finally letting his mind run wild about Draco. He really wanted to see him again. Well, he wanted to do a lot more than _see_ him but that wasn’t the point. The issue was that it would be extremely hard ( _haha_ ) to do. Sure, his parents now thought that they were dating, but he couldn’t just show up at Draco’s house and say “Hey, wanna fuck?” Could he? _Could he?_ No, surely not… Right? No. He finally settled on no, no he couldn’t do that. 

However, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t invited Draco to his place. He had a habit of keeping his place tidy, so it wasn’t a mess or anything, he just kind of steadily realised that it was small. It was perfect for him, years in a cupboard under the stairs really changes your perspective of how much space you need, but considering that the one room was about the size of Draco’s bedroom he wondered if Draco would think he was exceptionally poor or something. As a matter of fact, he was doing quite the opposite, being an Auror meant being well paid and, since Gringotts allowed for wizard money to be converted to muggle money, he knew he was also doing well by muggle standards. It wasn’t particularly hard to tell though, living in the heart of London was proof enough that he was doing just fine. 

Still though, laying back in his bed (which was extremely hard compared to Draco’s soft and squishy mattress) he couldn’t help thinking that Draco would see his place and think he wasn’t good enough. On the other hand, he was Harry freaking Potter. It was a bit hard to be considered as anything less than perfect to wizards. Maybe having Draco see him as someone doing awfully wouldn’t be an awful thing, it might even be a little refreshing. That was Draco’s biggest appeal when they went to Hogwarts (that and he’s just really pretty), the fact that he was willing to overlook Harry’s reputation and him being ‘the chosen one’ and call him a moron. It was, in a really weird way, kind of nice. 

So, he decided that he would invite Draco over. The issue was figuring out a decent excuse to get him over. Would “Hey, wanna fuck?” be a good enough reason to get him to come over? He somehow didn’t think so. Draco didn’t seem like the kind of guy that came over for a fuck. He seemed like the kind of person who needed a real reason to go out. A date, or something. Maybe he could invite Draco out for dinner, then take him home. 

It kind of hit Harry that it wasn’t necessarily just that he thought Draco wouldn’t come over for fuck but that he didn’t want him to. He wanted to do something with him. Dear lord, did he catch feeling for Draco Malfoy? Draco ‘Potter-stinks’ Malfoy? Draco ‘Was-A-Literal-Ferret-For-A-Minute-There’ Malfoy? Draco Goddam Malfoy? _Oh no,_ He thought to himself, _Ron’s going to kill me if he finds out._

Before he knew it he was imagining Draco sitting across from him, just the two of them, illuminated by candle light and laughing. Sitting at a restaurant, glowing in the golden light, his cute little snorting laugh and those soft lips spread out into a smile. Maybe they would even walk around a little and Draco would be silver in the moonlight. His hair, his eyes, his skin would all be a shining silver. His eyes would glow and sparkle like water and his silky soft fingers would brush against Harry’s face. Somehow the image was familiar. 

Harry could feel his face turning red. Why was he acting like this? He felt like a fifteen-year-old again. This was just ridiculous. He should be over this kind of goofy, tummy stirring daydream, but here he was. God this was embarrassing. He decided, rather firmly, that no one would ever be allowed to know about this daydream. Ever. He would honestly rather the earth swallow him whole then even imagine Ron finding out. The idea was equal parts horrifying and embarrassing. 

So, he’d ask Draco out for dinner then, it was settled. He wouldn’t tell Ron because he didn’t want to _die_ and they would have an absolutely grand time. Hopefully. Although there was the fact that he would have to ask Draco out. He’d never asked a guy out before. Is it the same as asking out a girl? He wasn’t sure. Luckily, he had a helpful little safety net that made writing to him a lot easier. 

_Draco_  
_Since we’re meant to be dating, we should probably be seen out together. How about we go out tomorrow night for dinner?_   
_Harry_

Harry gave the letter his owl (it had taken him a long time to get another owl after Hedwig and he had to repeatedly remind himself that getting a new owl was _not_ replacing her in any way) and laid back in his bed again. 

His mind wandered to this morning and seeing Draco changing in the mirror. He’d only seen him from the back, but what he had seen looked amazing. His slender back allowed for his shoulder blades to be just visible enough when he moved his arms to make Harry’s mouth water. Not to mention his ass, which was truly indescribable. A master piece, one of the great natural wonders of the world. 

Harry’s mind quickly took a turn to the night before. Draco’s little moans, the way he looked with his lips red and slightly swollen. It didn’t take too long before Harry was jerking off. Thinking of the feeling of Draco’s lips, and the warmth of his mouth, the way his tongue had just barely brushed Harry’s, the way he had shuddered when Harry spoke in his ear. The feeling of those delicate fingers on his dick. The look on his face when he came, not to mention the noise he made. The way he had rutted his ass against Harry’s dick. The little moans he couldn’t hold back. The taste of sweat on his skin. All the information replayed itself out of order, as if the moment had been too much for his mind to really capture and repeat. 

He came at the same time that his owl arrived with Draco’s reply. He apologised repeatedly, but the owl wouldn’t look at him for the rest of the night and following morning. Draco had accepted his offer though. 

Work the next day was a little awkward. While Harry hadn’t seen Draco, he apparently had a look on his face or something that demanded Ron have a stern conversation with him. 

“Listen to me, Harry,” Ron said. 

“I am listening,” Harry replied defensively. 

“No, you’re just kind of listening, but really, really listen to me for a minute.” 

Harry put down the pencil he had been fiddling with, crossed his hands on the desk and made eye contact with Ron, who was standing on the other side of the desk. 

“Don’t fuck Draco Malfoy.” 

Harry waited for a beat, expecting him to elaborate. He didn’t. “Okay?” 

“No, not okay because you’re still thinking about it!” Ron cried. 

“I am not!” Harry replied. This was true. There would be visible evidence if he were, that being a lump in his pants, or which there was none. He had not been thinking of fucking Draco Malfoy. 

“Maybe you aren’t thinking about _that_ but you are thinking about him!” 

“I am not!” This was a lie. 

“Bullshit! You’re probably thinking about him standing in the moonlight!” 

Harry’s mouth dropped open a little. He went to deny shut a claim but there was something a little bit more pressing, “How do you know that?” 

“You use to talk about it in your sleep!” Ron replied angrily. Now he knew why the image was so familiar, he’d apparently already thought about it. 

“Are you serious?” Harry asked. 

“Yes I’m bloody serious. I had to get Fred and George to give the other boys in the dorm some of the stuff they were testing out to keep their mouths shut!” Ron replied. Another look briefly overtook the rage in his features. Ron didn’t really talk about Fred. 

“Oh,” Harry replied, “Uh, thanks for that.” 

“Right and you can bloody repay me by not _fucking_ Draco _fucking_ Malfoy.” Harry grimaced a little and looked away. “You already asked him out again, didn’t you?” Harry looked back at Ron and he sat down on the desk with a huff. “You could fuck anybody else, _anybody_ else, and I would totally support you. You could even fuck my brothers. Bill, George, any of them. _All of them!”_

“At the same time?” Harry asked. 

“If you _fucking_ want to then _fine_ you could fuck all my brothers at the same time and I would be fully supportive. One thing that I will _not_ support, as your friend, is you fucking Draco bloody Malfoy.” 

“Really?” Harry asked, looking up to him again. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little hurt. 

Ron didn’t seem able to keep eye contact. Finally, he deflated a little. “No, not really, I’m just...” He sighed, “Why Draco though? Like, I honestly can’t think of a worse choice.” 

Harry thought for a moment. “There is one person who you might think is a worse choice.” 

Ron scoffed, “I doubt it.” 

“Lucius-” Harry replied. “If you even _think_ about fucking Lucius Malfoy I will end you right the fuck _now,”_ Ron replied before Harry could even finish. 

“I promise not to fuck Lucius Malfoy,” Harry replied with a grin. Ron seemed satisfied by that. 

That night, Harry was out with Draco. It was a little awkward at first, there was an odd sort tension made up entirely of their experiences with each other at Hogwarts. Luckily, they managed to make it to the restaurant without and argument or silences that were excessively uncomfortable. 

The restaurant actually had candle lighting, to Harry’s amazement and mild excitement. Maybe dreams really do come true. Although the ‘just them’ aspect wasn’t really applicable. There were other people dotted around the place and one table of particularly noisy people who seemed to be mostly drunk girls. In saying that, drunk girls were pretty great. They had a tendency to be extremely funny and helpful people, even if their clumsiness could be a little concerning. 

Harry and Draco both ordered and then had a moment of eye contact in which Harry was ready for the world to devour him. God Draco looked perfect. The golden light bounced off his hair and sparkled in his eyes in ways Harry’s imagination couldn’t capture. It wasn’t like he had imagined him glittering or anything, but in reality he looked so much softer. He didn’t seem untouchable, he looked real. Flawed. His shoulders were tense, his eyes darted around a little nervously and his cheeks were dusted pink. 

“So,” Draco started. It occurred to Harry that last time they had a conversation without being extremely tense, they were both a little drunk, “Have you played any quidditch lately?” 

“No, sadly,” Harry replied, “Being an Auror is, unsurprisingly, a demanding profession.” 

“Well, I imagine people were just begging to teach you,” Draco replied. There was a kind of bitterness underneath his voice, but it was mostly hidden beneath his light conversational tone. 

“Well, you’re not wrong.” There was a lot more salt in that sentence than he intended. 

“You say that like you’re bitter,” Draco said with a slight laugh. 

Harry couldn’t help laughing with him, “I wouldn’t say I’m bitter. I mean, I’m literally doing what I was chosen for.” 

Draco seemed mildly shocked. “Merlin’s beard,” He gasped. Harry raised an eyebrow. “You’re so bitter. I’ve seen sugarless coffee less bitter than you.” Harry couldn’t help laughing. It was rather funny and Draco seemed to be laughing too. That sort of half snorting laugh that was music to Harry’s ears, mixing with Harry’s own rich laughter was like hearing angels singing. 

“I’m not trying to be bitter,” Harry finally said in the least defensive tone he could manage. 

“He said, bitterly,” Draco replied. 

When they had both stopped laughing Harry said, “Okay, we need to stop saying bitter before it stops sounding like a real word.” 

“Agreed,” Draco replied with a small grin. 

Harry felt a grin playing on his face as he put his elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand. “Draco?” 

“Harry?” 

“Is that the first thing we’ve agreed on?” Draco snorted a little. 

“You may just be right,” Draco replied. “But seriously, if you hate being an Auror why don’t you do something else?” 

Harry furrowed his brow, “I never said I hate being an Auror.” 

“Maybe not with your mouth but-” 

“You are the second person to say that to me in the past two days,” Harry interrupted. Was he avoiding the actual subject? Oh yes. 

“To say what?” Draco asked. “That I haven’t said something with my mouth. Do words just appear on my forehead or something?” 

Draco rolled his eyes a little, but there was a grin plastered on his face. “No, you just have one of those faces.” 

“One of what faces?” Harry asked. 

“Just one of _those_ faces,” Draco replied with a shrug. “I don’t know how to describe it, but really, why are you doing something you’re so bit-” He stopped, clearly searching for a word that wasn’t ‘bitter’, “Resentful about?” 

“I still don’t know what you mean about my face-” Draco raised his eyebrows and Harry stopped before answering his question. “It’s what’s expected of me.” He finally replied. 

“Do you always do what’s expected of you?” 

“No.” 

“Really?” Draco asked, letting his eyebrows settle back down to their usual place on his face. “Name one thing you’ve done that wasn’t expected of you.” Harry smirked a little and looked Draco over, genuinely struggling with the desire to say “you.” Apparently this was obviously written on his face too because Draco shifted a little on his chair before hissing, “Being here right now and what happened the other night doesn’t count.” 

He sighed heavily, “You’re right because Ron expected it.” 

Draco looked a little surprised, “Wait, seriously?” 

“Yeah, apparently I may haven’t mentioned you once or twice,” He looked down at the table and said around a cough, “In my sleep.” 

Draco’s snorting laughter made Harry look back up to him. “Wow, that’s embarrassing.” 

“For you?” 

“Why would it be embarrassing for me? I meant for you.” Draco replied with a delicate little shrug. “Anyway, answer the question.” 

“I entered the tri wizard tournament,” Harry replied with a shrug. 

He nodded, “That’s true. How did you do that?” 

Harry took a deep breath in and glanced over to the loud drunk girls, “I…” He sighed. “I didn’t, a death eater was pretending to be Mad Eye and he put my name in the cup.” 

Draco looked a little surprised and then said, “Well that doesn’t count at all, you didn’t even enter yourself.” 

Harry thought for a little while about Draco’s question. “I _didn’t_ start Dumbledore’s Army.” He finally settled on that. Not exactly an amazing achievement, but it still counted. 

“Oh really?” Draco asked, “Who’s idea was that?” 

“Hermione and Ron.” He replied with a shrug. “Mostly Hermione. Although, Nevil found the Room of Requirement for us.” He froze for a minute and checked his forehead, but luckily whatever charm or curse Hermione had put on the Dumbledore’s Army parchment had faded or was broken. That was good, Harry didn’t need _snitch_ written on his forehead in acne while trying to hunt and arrest dark wizards. 

“I’m learning all this a few years too late to be of any advantage to me,” Draco grumbled. “But I have a feeling you still taught a lot of those lessons.” 

“Yes,” Harry replied, if a little reluctantly. 

“Just as expected.” 

Harry clicked his tongue, “Do you want me to jump across this table and fight you?” He was grinning while he said it. 

Draco grinned back, “Wow, and get us kicked out, as _expected?”_

“You’re the worst,” Harry said while shaking his head. 

“How did I know you were going to say that?” Draco asked with a small smile. 

“Do I just have one of those faces that reveals all of my deepest secrets?” Harry asked. 

“Yes, although admittedly it never revealed that you were pinning for me,” Draco replied. There was a little flush of colour in his face. 

“Well apparently my traitor face didn’t need to say anything.” 

“Traitor face, I like that. If Granger’s snitch curse is still in effect it’ll be super fitting.” Draco snorted. Harry couldn’t help laughing along. 

The rest of the night carried on with similar discussions. The drunk girls from the other table did come over at some point and one of them tried to not very subtly slip Harry her number while giving Draco an extremely exaggerated wink. One of the other girls decided that she was totally in love with Draco’s hair and started crying and asking him what shampoo he used. Two of them started a little ‘I love you’ session that Harry and Draco got sucked into, with all the girls taking turns talking about how much they loved each other and Harry and Draco. Eventually they left with Harry telling them to walk carefully, to which one of them started crying and thanking him for being so kind. Harry and Draco left not too long after that. 

Standing outside in the brisk air, Harry asked, “Uh, do you maybe want to go back to my place?” 

Draco flushed a little but agreed and the two made their way back to Harry’s apartment. Draco stopped them before they entered the building and pointed at it saying, “You own this place?” Harry had nearly died laughing and brought Draco up to his apartment, where Draco walked in and whispered a small, “Oh, I see now.” 

“Yeah, it’s actually pretty decently sized,” Harry commented. Draco looked shocked and appalled. 

“It’s one room,” He stated. He looked over to the kitchen and gestured to it, “Where does your kitchen end?” Harry pointed to where the floor changed from linoleum to carpet. Draco stood in the middle of the kitchen and then stared at Harry. “How do you cook in this place?” Harry couldn’t help laughing and he stepped into the kitchen along with Draco after kicking his shoes off by the door, which left them not very far apart at all, and leaned on the counter. “I mean; I happen to think it’s plenty spacious.” Draco scoffed at this and Harry continued, “No, I’m serious, I wouldn’t know what to do with the space if it were any bigger.” Harry watched Draco’s mild horror with a small grin. 

At some point, Draco stopped staring at the place and his eyes settled on Harry. There was an odd look on his face. It looked like a mix between uncertainty and desire. It was the same look he had before Harry kissed him the first time. Was this the face Draco made when he wanted Harry to kiss him? Harry wasn’t completely sure. He moved closer, until his lips were extremely close to Draco’s, but so they weren’t quite touching. He wanted Draco to kiss him, he needed Draco to confirm that this was what he wanted. Draco did kiss him, but it was so soft that if Harry hadn’t been waiting for it he would have missed it. It felt almost like he had brushed his lips against something briefly. He waited another beat and the light pressure returned, a little more noticeably this time and Harry was no longer unsure if Draco wanted to be kissed and took the liberty of deepening the existing one. 

Harry felt Draco’s hands tangle into his hair and the excitement went straight to his dick. He started unbuttoning Draco’s shirt, determined that he would get him out of it this time. Draco lifted up the bottom of Harry’s shirt just a little and slipped his hands under it, causing Harry to jump from his cold fingers. There were five little freezing spots moving along his stomach and he felt himself shivering and tensing from them. He could feel Draco smirking a little and another shiver ran down his body, completely unrelated to the cold fingers. 

Harry pulled away just long enough to lead Draco to the bed. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, trying to gently guide Draco onto his lap. Draco flushed adorably red and opted to sit beside him instead. Harry was only momentarily and slightly disappointed since he was quickly distracted by Draco’s warm lips pressing against his neck. 

Harry let out breathy sigh at the pressure, but didn’t stop his very important mission of getting Draco’s shirt off. Draco helped him a little anxiously, pulling away from Harry and slipping his shirt off in a slow way that was a lot hotter than he probably meant it to be. The first thing Harry spotted where the light, fading scars from the Sectumsempra spell he had found in the half blood prince’s book. A little pang of guilt shot through him, however was quickly replaced when he also noticed a small spot on Draco’s neck that looked like a hickey was close to forming and couldn’t hold back a soft laugh. Draco looked up, offended, a little hurt but mostly annoyed that Harry was laughing at him. 

Seeing this, Harry quickly jumped into an apology, “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, it’s the-” He paused to hold in another bout of laughter, “It’s the hickey.” 

Draco’s features fell into a look of relief and then he hit Harry’s shoulder. “Right, that. That’s your fault, by the way.” He hit Harry again. 

“I know, that’s why it’s so funny,” Harry replied. Draco hit him one more time. 

“Do you know how lucky you are that it wasn’t higher up or darker? Or both!” Draco gently jabbed at his stomach. “I’m not joking; do you know what my parents would say? Can you imagine that conversation?” 

Harry was now laughing a lot harder and took a second to calm himself before saying, “Okay, okay I’m sorry.” His eyes flicked down to the hickey and he felt more laughter rising in his throat. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “You are not,” He grumbled. 

“But I’m trying very hard to be,” Harry responded, leaning in to kiss Draco again. 

Draco kissed him back and Harry could feel his lips twitching up into a grin. He was the first to pull away and start kissing along Harry’s jawline until he reached Harry’s neck. He was sucking, licking and even biting, just a little. Harry’s brain stopped for a moment and all he could do was lean his head to the side to give Draco more room while moaning softly, which served to encourage Draco quite a lot. 

Harry’s brain kicked back in after a second and he froze a little, “Wait a minute,” Draco stopped and looked up at him. “Are you just _trying_ to give me a hickey?” Draco grinned a little, but didn’t say anything. “You _can’t!”_ Harry cried a little dramatically, “I have work and nowhere near as many high collared shirts as you.” 

“That’s a shame,” Draco replied before leaning forward and softly kissing Harry’s neck, “You seemed to be enjoying it so much.” He kissed the other side of Harry’s neck. 

“You’re right,” Harry replied and lazily ran his fingers down the middle of Draco’s back. He felt Draco shudder under his fingers and grinned a little. “But, seriously, Ron’s got eyes like a hawk for this kind of thing.” 

“How serious are you?” Draco asked. There was an odd look on his face, something Harry couldn’t quite name. It looked like a mix between mischievous and concerned. 

Harry spent a beat mulling this expression over in his head before replying, “A little serious. Why?” 

Draco’s snorting laugh started up again and he answered through it, “Good, because I think I already gave you one.” Harry put a hand over the spot Draco had been sucking on as if he’d be able to feel the hickey there. Instead it was slightly wet with Draco’s saliva, which was a little gross. Harry wiped his hand on Draco’s chest. “What did you just wipe on me?” Draco cried, quickly wiping it off. 

“Your spit,” Harry replied with a small laugh. 

“You’re so gross,” Draco complained and wacked Harry’s stomach. He was smiling while he said it though. Harry laughed and leaned in, catching Draco’s lips in another kiss. 

Harry put his hands on the small of Draco’s back and felt him jump a little before settling. Harry’s tongue was in Draco’s mouth and he could feel Draco’s tongue reach out to gently meet his tenderly. Draco’s tongue ran up along his and he felt himself shiver. He felt Draco’s hands under his shirt again and pulled away to take it off. He felt Draco’s eyes on his chest and stomach and a rush of confidence turned itself into pure arousal. One of Draco’s hands found its way back into Harry’s hair and the other one gently roamed around Harry’s chest and stomach. 

Harry let one of the hands on Draco’s back slip down into his pants rest on Draco’s ass. He heard Draco moan into his mouth and started gently massaging his ass. Draco pulled away from their kiss to groan softly. Harry felt his stomach tighten and leaned in to kiss Draco’s neck only for hands to be placed firmly on his shoulders. Harry looked up at Draco and nearly came. He was panting, his eyes were like ice. _Hot ice_. That definitely wouldn’t make sense to anyone but Harry. 

“You are not giving me another hickey,” Draco said firmly around his ragged breathing. Despite his ridged voice, he had a smile on his face that looked like the sun. Harry nodded and pressed one soft kiss to Draco’s neck. 

Draco took his hand off Harry’s stomach and put it over his own mouth to muffle the sound of his moans. Harry gently pulled it away and said in his ear, “I want to hear you. I love the sounds you make, they’re so hot.” Allowing Harry to relish in the way Draco shuddered at his voice. He let go of Draco’s hand and started gently playing with Draco’s nipple. The hand in his hair tightened and pulled a little. Harry moaned at the sensation and his eyes briefly caught Draco’s and he noticed that he was laughing. 

Harry couldn’t help a grin forming on his features as he leaned in and pressed little kisses over Draco’s neck. He spoke around each kiss, “What are you laughing about?” 

“Do you really enjoy having your hair pulled?” Draco asked. Harry felt his face go a little red but he nodded and felt Draco gently pull his hair again. Tingles ran from his head, down his back and straight to his dick. He was sure there was goose bumps all over his skin and he had probably shivered too, but it felt _really_ good. “I had no idea you were kinky.” 

“It’s not that kinky,” Harry replied defensively. 

“It’s a little kinky.” Draco replied and kissed him. Harry reached down between them and started undoing Draco’s pants, making him laugh a little. He pulled away from the kiss and asked, “Are you actually going to let me get out of my pants this time?” He asked. Harry grinned and started pulling off Draco’s trousers. Draco had to take his hands off Harry long enough to finish pulling them off. Harry couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes, Draco in nothing but his underwear. His mouth was watering again and he licked his lips before ducking down and pressing a kiss to Draco’s stomach. In a moment of surprise, Draco fell back on the bed a little awkwardly. Harry pulled away long enough for Draco to adjust himself so that he was lying on the bed a properly, with Harry resting between his legs. 

Harry leaned down and kissed Draco, but pulled away quickly. He started pressing small kisses down Draco’s neck while his hands worked on pulling off his underwear. He felt Draco’s hips lift so he could pull them off a little more easily. Harry’s lips kept moving down over his chest and he glanced up when he reached Draco’s stomach to see Draco’s look of mild surprise as he slowly approached Draco’s dick with his mouth. 

Harry reached Draco’s dick, but went around to his thigh instead. He started kissing Draco’s thigh, softly sucking, licking and nipping at it while he listened to Draco moan softly. Harry did both of Draco’s thighs and didn’t stop until he was sure there would be a hickey on both. Only then did Harry run his tongue from the base of Draco’s dick to the tip. He watched Draco’s hands grasp at the sheets and listened to the sounds he made with a small grin. He reached up and took one of Draco’s hands and placed it on his head before taking the tip of his dick in his mouth. Draco’s hand gripped Harry’s hair, suggesting to Harry that he was doing something _very_ right. 

It didn’t take Harry too long to get Draco bucking his hips and moaning half words. Harry took his mouth off Draco and used his hand to finish Draco off. He watched Draco bucking up into his hand and kissed him when he started crying out as he came, muffling the noises he made. 

When Draco stopped bucking and Harry pulled away from the kiss to watch him panting, Draco said, “You’re so confusing.” 

That wasn’t at all what Harry expect him to say and couldn’t help laughing a little. “Um, okay. Why?” 

“One minute you’re all like ‘let me hear you’ and then you kiss me so you can’t hear anything when I come.” 

Harry laughed and replied, “I have neighbours who probably wouldn’t be as happy to hear you as I am.” 

Draco flushed bright red, putting his hands over his face and laughed. “We really need to start putting up silencing charms or something.” Harry laughed and gently nudged Draco’s hands with his nose until he could kiss his lips again. They both shifted, only breaking their kiss when necessary until Harry was sitting back and Draco was leaning over him slightly. Throughout the shifting they had worked together to completely strip Harry of all his clothes and he was very aware that Draco had taken a moment to glance over him. 

Draco moved a little awkwardly, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips twitching down anxiously. He took Harry’s dick in his hand and started moving down to take the tip into his mouth but Harry stopped him asking, “Are you okay?” 

“What do you mean?” Draco asked, sitting back up. 

“You look,” He looked over Draco’s face, “Worried.” 

Draco went a little red and replied, “Well, I mean, I’ve never actually done this before.” Harry’s face dropped in mild surprise. Draco wasn’t looking at him, instead finding interest in the dresser. 

“I, uh,” Harry was honestly shocked. He wasn’t sure why the idea that Draco hadn’t ever done this was so surprising, it actually made sense in a way. Wizards had a tendency to be extremely conservative, that would include for stuff like this. He was suddenly worried that he had pressured Draco into this somehow; made him think it was expected or necessary when it absolutely wasn’t. “You don’t have to do it, or anything you don’t want,” Harry finally settled on. A small smile grew on Draco’s mostly unsure face and he brought his eyes back to Harry’s, “I do want to, I just,” He blushed and licked his lips, “I’m not sure if I’m going to be any good at it.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about that, I mean, it’s one of those things were even if you’re bad at it, it still feels pretty good.” Harry replied, “Trust me. But if you’d rather wait…” Draco shook his head. 

“Um,” Draco looked away from Harry’s face briefly and asked, “How many times have you done this?” 

Harry shifted a little, “Twice, well,” He shrugged, “Three times, including just now.” Draco grinned a little at that. Something occurred to Harry then, “How many times, I mean, was that the first time you’ve…” He trailed off and watched Draco’s face go even redder. 

“Uh, no, I,” He laughed a little awkwardly, “There was this one other time, although you’re a lot better at it than they were.” Harry couldn’t help laughing and, luckily, Draco joined him. 

Draco waited until they had both stopped laughing and then started going down again. Harry watched with a mix between excitement and something else. It wasn’t quite concern so much as affinity, although there was something like unease surrounding it. He knew he would be Draco’s first and he didn’t find himself worried that Draco might perform poorly or anything, but rather that he would do something and turn Draco off this forever. 

Most of those thoughts and feelings were so brief that by the time Draco’s mouth was around his tip they were completely gone from Harry’s mind. Whatever had lead him to think he might perform poorly was utter rubbish. He flicked his tongue over Harry’s slit and used it to gently massage around the head before moving down. He didn’t quite get halfway down before he had to move back up so he didn’t choke, but it didn’t really matter when his tongue was pressing and rubbing against Harry’s dick. 

“Holy _fuck,”_ Harry moaned, letting his head tilt back for a moment. Draco looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, wide and mildly curious, and Harry had to struggle not to buck his hips into Draco’s mouth. When he was about to come he placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder and gently pushed him off, fully incapable of words by that point. Draco seemed to understand though and got off him, replacing his mouth with his hand and pumping him. They kissed while Harry came. 

Harry grabbed his wand and vanished all the come and they both laid down on Harry’s bed. Harry felt warm and a goofy smile was growing on his face. Draco, however, had apparently already cooled down and was climbing under the covers. 

“Your house,” He paused and looked around, “Room-” 

“Apartment,” Harry offered. 

“Whatever, its cold.” Draco grumbled. Harry climbed under the covers with him and put and arm around him. He quickly discovered that Draco wasn’t actually overly cold except his fingers and toes which were promptly pressed against his skin. Harry let out a gasp that was almost a scream and gently pushed Draco’s hands off him. 

“Holy shit, don’t touch me, you icicle,” Harry cried, but there was no denying the grin on his face. Draco laughed that adorable little laugh that made Harry’s heart melt and fought to put his hands back on Harry’s chest. 

“This is what you get for being the warm one,” Draco said in a matter of fact tone. 

“I’m going to be the cold one if you keep your hands there,” Harry replied. Draco responded by putting one arm over Harry and the other one underneath him so he could press his cold fingers to Harry’s back instead. Harry let out another little horrified gasp and Draco snuggled his face closer to his chest, until his nose, which turned out to be equally cold, was pressed against Harry’s chest. “You’re freezing,” Harry muttered. 

Draco snickered a little and replied in the same hushed tone, “And you’re bitter.” Harry laughed at that. They laid in silence for a little while. Harry thought Draco might have fallen asleep, but then he whispered, “Harry?” 

“Draco?” Harry replied. 

“Are we-” He stopped and then started again, “Did you ask me out on a fake date just so we could do this.” 

Harry felt his cheeks go pink. “Maybe,” he replied. Draco let out a small huff of a laugh. 

“Then shouldn’t we,” He shrugged, “I don’t know, actually date?” 

Harry kissed the top of Draco’s head. “Sure,” He answered, “I’d like that.” 

They spent a little while talking about how Ron was going to kill Harry and how awkward the next morning would be for Draco when he got home. Draco fell asleep first and Harry laid there watching for a little while before drifting off as well. 


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Harry woke up first. He was laying mostly on his back with Draco partially on top of him. His arms were wrapped loosely around Draco, who had his face snuggled into Harry’s chest. Harry woke up and the desire to stretch too over his body before he could consider how this might upset the sleeping beauty beside him. He stretched, making a deep groaning noise, and Draco seemed to stir just a little bit and grumbled softly, but luckily just fell back asleep. Harry was now aware that he needed to get up to pee, which was bound to be a little harder to do without waking Draco.

Harry carefully started trying to shift out from underneath him, only to have him half wake up. One of his eyes half opened and he grumbled something that Harry couldn’t quite make out before shutting his eyes again and nuzzling Harry’s neck. “I gotta get up,” Harry replied softly. 

This time, Draco’s mumbling made a little more sense. “No you don’t. Go back to sleep.” 

Harry couldn’t help grinning as he replied, “No, I really need to.” 

Draco hummed out a little sound of disagreement. “I’m warm.” 

“I’ll be right back,” Harry promised. Draco shook his head lazily. “I gotta pee,” He finally confessed. 

Draco seemed to take this into consideration and muttered something that Harry still couldn’t make out, but didn’t sound like disagreement. Harry took this as permission to get up. Draco still grumbled about it and he didn’t move to make it any easier, but he also didn’t keep nuzzling Harry’s neck. When Harry was out of the bed, Draco buried himself under the blankets until only his hair was poking out the top. 

When Harry came back to return to bed Draco was still mostly buried under the blankets. He pulled away the covers to climb in only to have Draco grumpily grumble about that too. When he was back, Draco’s little grumbles finally ceased and he settled back against Harry with a happy sigh. This lasted a solid twenty seconds before Draco mumbled something else. 

“What?” Harry asked. 

“I said I hate you,” Draco replied, his eyes were still shut but he sounded a lot more awake. 

“Why?” Harry asked. 

“Because you woke me up and now I gotta pee.” He grumbled in response before shifting and sitting up. He stretched and rubbed his eyes while Harry watched with mild amusement and extreme appreciation. He looked so good, so impossibly beautiful with his messy hair and the high pitched whining sound he made was extremely cute. He turned to Harry with a little half scowl settled lazily on his features, “Also, your bed sucks.” 

“That’s not what you said last night,” Harr retorted. 

“I didn’t say anything about it last night.” Draco grunted and got out of bed, putting his underwear and pants back on and wandered his way over to the bathroom. Harry watched him redress with a small pout, he did rather enjoy the sight of his boyfriend naked. 

Harry felt his face grow red at the thought. Not necessarily the thought of Draco naked, which did have that same effect, but rather the thought that Draco was his boyfriend. They were official as of last night and the idea was still sort of sinking in. Another thought started crossing his mind; Ron. Should he tell Ron? So far he hadn’t needed to _tell_ Ron anything, but that wasn’t the point. Ron might get upset that he wasn’t just playing around with Draco or something, but that they were officially dating. He couldn’t keep it a secret from his best friend, but he also couldn’t tell him without there being some kind of backlash. Maybe he should tell Hermione first. She had a tendency to be more understanding of this kind of thing, and as his other best friend, it wasn’t something he could keep from her either. 

Draco returned and Harry pushed the thoughts out of his head and grinned up at him. Harry expected him to crawl back into bed, but instead he sat on the edge, leaned down and kissed him. 

“You should probably be getting up,” Draco said when they pulled away. 

“If I remember correctly, you were the one telling me not to,” Harry replied. He reached out, gently grabbing Draco and pulling him back onto the bed, who let out a little shout of surprise. 

“I was,” Draco replied, a little defeated. Harry buried his head triumphantly into Draco’s neck and nuzzled him softly. Draco started running his fingers through Harry’s hair and gently kissed his head. “But seriously, do you have work today?” Harry huffed a little and nodded. “Well, we should probably get up.” Harry grumbled because, of course, he was right. Harry wasn’t happy about it, but he was right and he got up. 

Harry pulled on clean clothes before he started cooking them breakfast (he had cooked in the nude _once,_ made the mistake of cooking bacon and suffered for it, so he always cooked in clothes). When he slid a plate of bacon and eggs to Draco he noticed that he was also dressed, although there was a slightly dishevelled look about him. His hair wasn’t combed properly, he’d obviously just pushed it back with his hands, and his shirt was wrinkled. It looked a little strange on him, but was also, extremely attractive. Then again, Harry hadn’t seen him in anything so far that was unattractive. 

Draco nearly got lost on his way home, but luckily he had a fairly decent sense of direction. It didn’t take too long to get home, but before opening the door he adjusted his shirt to the best of his ability and pushed his hair back. It didn’t help a lot. It also didn’t change the fact that he could smell Harry on him. When he was sure that he couldn’t make himself anymore presentable he entered the house. 

Draco had half expected to open the door and have his parents staring disapprovingly at him. He let out a relieved breath and walked in, only to enter the longue room and have both his parents sitting there, staring at him disapprovingly. 

“Good morning,” Draco said a little anxiously. 

“How is Mr Potter?” Lucius asked. 

“He’s fine,” Draco replied, moving to head to his bedroom. 

Narcissa asked, “And what exactly did you two get up to last night?” Draco froze a little and felt his cheeks heat up. 

“We had dinner,” Draco replied and kept walking. 

“Dinner,” Narcissa repeated. Then to Lucius she said, “So that’s what they call it these days.” Draco had reached the stairs when she called, “Draco,” making him turn back to her. 

“Yes, mummy?” He asked. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. Maybe acting innocent would stop that conversation from happening. 

“You’re an adult now,” She said. Draco bit his tongue on the desire to say, “Yes, I’m aware,” and waited for her to continue. “And you’re going to want to do adult things.” It was very clear she was just as uncomfortable with the concept of this conversation as Draco was. 

“I’m going to stop you there, Mum” He put his hands up in a kind of ‘stop’ gesture and let a cringe take over his face, “You don’t have to-” 

“Yes, I do,” She replied. 

“No, you really don’t,” He replied, backing up onto the stair case. 

“Draco, this is serious,” Narcissa replied sternly. 

Draco sighed and looked anywhere but his mother. “Can be serious after I’ve changed?” He finally asked. 

Narcissa nodded curtly and Draco had to stop himself from darting up the stairs as quickly as possible. When he had changed he still sat in his room for a minute and stared at the wall. He didn’t want to go downstairs. His mother was there, ready to have _the talk_ with him as if he were some thirteen-year-old. He was not ready for that. He would never be ready for that. 

Nevertheless, he eventually could stall by sitting in his room any longer and descended the stairs. He walked into the longue room and whatever conversation Narcissa and Lucius were having dropped off. That didn’t help Draco’s discomfort. He sat down and they all sat in the discomfort. Draco was waiting for Narcissa to say something, but she seemed to be waiting for something else. Draco glanced between his mother and father to see Narcissa expectantly raising her eyebrows. Lucius just looked shocked and confused. She let her features settle, took a deep, patient breath and then gave Lucius a slightly different look. One that suggested he should know what to say. Lucius, judging by the concern in his eyes, didn’t know what to say. 

“Draco,” He finally said, turning to his son. Narcissa seemed pleased, “You’re an adult now and you’re going to want to do adult things.” Draco closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. His mother had the exact same reaction. Lucius looked as if they had both just called him an idiot. “Narcissa, you’re better at this kind of thing,” He grumbled and left the room. Narcissa looked annoyed but didn’t stop him from leaving. 

“What your father is trying to say,” Narcissa said when he had left, “Is that we feel that you should be able to speak to us. We don’t want you getting in trouble and feeling like you can’t come to us about the issue.” So maybe it wasn’t the talk. Thank god. Draco couldn’t hide his relief. 

“Of course,” Draco replied with a small smile. “I already know that.” 

Narcissa smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes, concerning Draco slightly. There was also the matter of the shine in her eyes. “I always thought so too.” 

“Right,” Draco replied. There was something else, Narcissa wasn’t saying it though. She took a deep breath and it sounded shaky. Was she going to cry? Why? He got up from his seat and sat beside her. She took his hand and looked him dead in the eye. 

“Often, when men like other men, people attempt to make them feel ashamed for it,” She said, her voice just shaking slightly. “I need to know that I never made you feel like I would do that to you.” 

“No,” Draco replied, “I never thought that.” 

Narcissa looked relieved and continued, “It’s just that,” She took a breath to compose herself, “You didn’t tell us until you were dating Potter.” 

“Right,” Draco replied. He could feel his cheeks growing hot. “I wasn’t keeping it a secret, exactly I just,” He stopped and shifted a little, “I wasn’t sure.” 

Narcissa nodded and gently held Draco’s chin, she looked him in the eye and Draco was vaguely aware that she was checking if he was lying. “Okay,” She whispered. She hugged him and Draco returned it, giving her a gentle squeeze. Without pulling away she whispered, “Your father didn’t make you feel ashamed either, right?” 

Draco wasn’t sure how to answer that. His father had never done anything directly, but when he first started noticing boys, there was a nagging feeling that he shouldn’t tell his father. He wasn’t ever sure why. Perhaps it was just the fact that he had seen how his father responded when something deviated from what he considered the norm. Even then though, it wasn’t as if he felt ashamed exactly so much as afraid that he might have to be. It was confusing. In the end he shook his head and Narcissa gave him a gentle squeeze and whispered, “Thank goodness.” Draco could feel her tears dripping onto his shoulder, but it wasn’t until she pulled away and wiped his face that he realised he’d also been crying. 

Later, the three of them were all together in the longue room reading. Or at least Draco was trying to read, but his mind was a little distracted. The conversation he’d had with his mother was pretty prominent in his mind, but what reigned supreme was Harry Potter. Not necessarily last night, although that had popped up a few times and Draco had forced himself to think of literally anything else while his parents were around, but he was curious about what Harry was doing. Was he getting badgered by Weasley? Was Granger there? Was he thinking about Draco? Did Weasley spot the hickey he’d left? Such important question and no way to get answers. An image of Harry sitting at his desk with his legs up on the desk while Weasley said, “Harry, You’re an adult now and you’re going to want to do adult things,” briefly flashed through his mind and he had to bite his lip so he didn’t laugh out loud. 

Harry’s actual discussion with Ron was far worse than Draco’s discussion with his parents, at least in Harry’s opinion. He had walked in and immediately Ron had spotted the hickey. 

“Did Malfoy give you that?” Ron had asked, a desperation in his voice that suggested he hoped Harry said no. 

“No, it’s from the vacuum cleaner,” Harry deadpanned. 

“What the hell’s a vacuum cleaner?” Ron asked. Harry couldn’t help a grin appearing on his face. “Whatever it is, if it’s an insult to call someone one, then yes, Draco is a vacuum cleaner.” Harry tried to hold back the majority of his laugh. It didn’t really work. Hermione walked in after that. 

“Hey Hermione,” Harry greeted her with a grin. 

“Hey, Harry,” She replied. Then she turned to Ron, “What exactly is so urgent that I had to come down here?” 

Ron pointed to Harry, “You need to talk sense into him.” 

“What did you do this time?” Hermione asked, turning to Harry. 

“Nothing,” Harry replied defensively. 

“Bullshit,” Ron replied. 

“Listen,” Harry said. “Draco came in the other day-” 

“Was that when Ron made that announcement about Draco convincing his parents that you two were dating?” 

“Yes, well he asked me to go to dinner with him and his parents,” Harry continued, “And we maybe kind of-” 

“They fucked.” Ron’s defiant tone and scowl were softened by Hermione’s look that strongly suggested he shouldn’t use that language. 

“That depends on your definition of fucking,” Harry muttered, earning him a similar look from Hermione. Ron picked a pencil up off the table and threw it at Harry. “Anyway, then we went out for dinner again last night and I got a hickey, so Ron’s mad.” 

Hermione looked like she was struggling not to shout. “Okay, well,” She turned to Ron, “I don’t think we should be so surprised.” 

Ron was utterly betrayed. “What?” He asked in a high whisper. 

“Harry’s been pinning for Draco since they met,” Hermione replied. 

Harry held his arms out defensively, “Dude, I thought you didn’t tell her about the dreams?” 

Hermione mouth made an ‘o’ shape and she couldn’t hold back a giggle, “There were dreams?” 

“No, there weren’t,” Harry replied. 

“Look,” Ron said, “Can you just tell him that it’s a bad idea to keep this going?” He was practically begging. 

Hermione seemed a little torn. She looked to Harry, then back to Ron and then finally settled on, “Are you two still fighting?” Harry felt a smile winning over his features and shook his head. 

She turned back to Ron, “Maybe it’s not such a bad thing.” 

“But it’s _Malfoy!”_ He was whining a little now. “Yes, but it’s also _Harry,”_ She replied. They shared a look of understanding before he seemed to give up again, deflating. “Plus,” Hermione continued in a lighter tone, “They’re only fake dating.” 

Harry laughed and Hermione joined in while Ron let a scowl settle on his features. Harry was still laughing when he muttered quietly, “Yeah about that.” 

Hermione stopped laughing and raised her eyebrows. It was pretty clear she didn’t need an explanation as she muttered, “Right.” 

The three of them sat in that silence for a moment. Ron broke it with, “Alright, we’ll have to meet up with the bloody git then.” Harry looked up in surprise. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry replied. 

“Yeah, like fuck we don’t,” Ron snapped. “If this ends up being serious before Christmas, I gotta know how much that git’s changed. If he’s still a piece of shit you can’t bring him with you.” Harry felt a smile grow on his features and nodded. 

“Sounds fair,” Harry replied. Hermione and Ron left after that, leaving Harry alone to think about Draco for a little while before doing his job. 

Harry had spent a large part of his day with Ron chasing down a lead and then subsequently fighting a group of dark wizards. He was exhausted by the time he got home, which was well into the morning, and almost didn’t notice the letter waiting for him on his bedside table. He managed to wake himself up enough to recognise Draco’s neat handwriting and open it, however, not enough to actually read it before passing out. 

Harry woke up with an odd sense that he was doing something and sat up. He’d fallen asleep without changing or even getting under the covers so he felt a little stiff when he tried to move. He sat up and found the letter he’d been about to read had fallen on the ground. He picked it up and forced his mushy brain to pull itself together enough to read it. His glasses were still on his face and he set them straight so he could focus on the words. 

_Harry_  
_Granger’s just informed me that I have to go out with her and Weasley. She failed to mention, however, if you would be there. I’m going to assume you won’t and let you know that you should expect me to come to your room afterwards._   
_Draco_

Harry read the letter and felt a grin filling his features. The fact that he was still referring to the apartment as a room stood out pretty spectacularly and was undeniably adorable. He was looking forward to the evening he was now set to spend with Draco, but since it was his day off, and Ron and Hermione were out with Draco, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He ended up watching TV, browsing the internet and working out a bit (it was a necessity although he didn’t do half the amount he should have). He also just _happened_ to be working out when Draco knocked at the door. Draco certainly seemed to notice. They sat on Harry’s bed and started talking about what Draco, Ron and Hermione had done all day. 

Draco had been extremely nervous to go out with Hermione and Ron after everything that happened at Hogwarts. This anxiety must have been obvious on his face, or perhaps it was obvious in the way he couldn’t stop fiddling with his cufflink, because his father noticed. 

“Are you going out with Mr Potter again?” Lucius asked. 

“No, I’m going out with Miss Granger and Mr Weasley,” Draco replied. 

“The mud blood and the blood traitor?” Lucius asked, with clear distaste. 

Before Draco could catch himself he muttered, “You shouldn’t call them that.” 

“What did you say?” Lucius asked. 

“Nothing,” He replied. 

Lucius brushed it off with a shrug and asked Draco just before he stepped out, “When are you going to go meet up with Potter’s par-” He stopped himself and said, “Never mind.” 

Draco raised an eyebrow and replied, “Classy,” before leaving. 

Draco met up with Granger and Weasley in the muggle world, which was unusual and extremely uncomfortable. There was clear discomfort between them even in their introductions. Draco was also acutely aware of Ron’s dark glare, although he was much more unsettled by the look on Hermione’s face. While mostly soft, there was a firm kind of glower in her eyes that could easily be missed because of the polite smile on her lips. They were still standing on the street where they had met up when Ron got right down to business. 

“What do you want with Harry?” Draco was taken aback by the question. 

Hermione looked up to him and huffed lightly, “Ron, we could at least get off the street before we start interrogating him.” She turned to Draco, “But what _do_ you want with Harry?” 

Draco shifted uncomfortably, “I, uh, I’m not sure how to answer that question.” 

“Right well you better bloody get an answer,” Weasley replied gruffly. “Come on.” He started walking, Hermione followed beside him and Draco brought up the rear. He was going to need to get in their good graces and quickly, although the opportunity didn’t seem like it would come walking behind them. He would have to wait until they reached their destination, wherever that was. 

Their destination turned out to be a diner where the three of them slid into a booth. Hermione and Ron sat on one side of the booth and Draco on the other. A waitress came over, asking if they wanted anything to drink and Granger ordered something Draco had never heard of. Then again he was in a muggle place, he didn’t know the names of anything. Weasley asked for the same as her and Draco repeated him like some kind of parrot. Maybe that was the point of bringing him here, so he would be even _more_ uncomfortable than he already was. Still, the waitress was leaving and his opportunity to redeem himself a little popped up. 

“I feel that I should apologise for how I treated the two of you during our time at Hogwarts,” Draco said. It was earnest, he reviewed his past actions with a certain level of distaste, but Weasley didn’t seem to think it was honest at all. 

“Bullshit you do,” Ron snarled. He leaned over the table and Draco found himself instinctively leaning back, “You might have Harry fooled, but you’re still a death eater, mate. Through and through.” Draco felt his lip twitch up in a grimace at the mention of being a death eater and forced it back down into a deadpan. 

“I can see where you might think that,” Draco replied calmly. Ron’s eyebrows raised and the scowl fell away for just a moment before he crinkled his nose as if he’d smelt something bad and sat back in his seat. 

“So,” Hermione asked, “What have you been up to since we last saw you? Got a job?” 

Draco had the perfect response to this, “I’m independently wealthy, I don’t need to work.” That generally impressed the working class. Granger was unresponsive. No, that wasn’t quite right. There was a response, but rather than looking impressed her eyes flicked over him dissatisfaction. It was as if she had wanted him to say literally anything but that. That wasn’t the expected response at all. 

Their drinks arrived at that moment and the waitress seemed to realise the discomfort in the air, regardless of Draco and Granger’s polite demeanour. Maybe it was because Weasley was glaring at him as if he had just called his favourite food disgusting and then punched Granger in the face. ‘Maybe’ being an ill-fitting addition to the sentence since it was certainly that. It didn’t stop the waitress from putting her number under Draco’s cup though. 

Draco picked up the number and offered it to Ron who gave him a puzzled look. “You don’t want it? She seemed like your type.” 

“And what would you know about who’s my type?” Ron asked. 

Draco shrugged, “I don’t know, she’s a girl who is clearly single.” Ron looked about ready to leap across the table and punch him. “I’ll take that as a no. Granger?” He offered it to Hermione. A little smile appeared on her face but she shook her head. He screwed it up and dumped it on the table. 

“What, you don’t want it?” Ron asked. 

Draco couldn’t stop the confusion showing on his face. “Why would I want it?” 

Ron shrugged and muttered, “I don’t know. You’re a Slytherin, your type cheating wouldn’t be surprising.” 

“I’m also gay and dating Harry Potter, so actually it would be very surprising.” Draco had been out with them for all of two minutes and was already feeling pretty goddamn done with their shit. Luckily, Weasley’s face went about as red as his hair and he went silent. Draco and Hermione took sips of their coffee at the same time. Draco was relieved that it was coffee and not some ridiculous muggle drink. 

They sat and chatted quietly for a while, the tension seemed to ease a little after Draco had ensured Ron he wasn’t cheating. Draco deflected most of the conversation so it was about Hermione and the rest to be about Ron. Some of the topics made it impossible not to talk about himself at least a little, but for the most part he kept it on them. The harsh glare on Weasley’s face did fade eventually, but he still seemed perpetually annoyed. Granger seemed to be easier to convince that he wasn’t a threat anymore so Draco focused on that as much as possible. 

They were outside, ready to part ways when Hermione asked again, “What exactly are your intentions with Harry?” 

Draco shrugged, “I still don’t know exactly what you mean.” 

“What do you get out of it?” She asked a little more sternly. Draco felt his cheeks going pink, but couldn’t think of a suitable answer. Saying “He’s great in bed” would unquestionably lead Weasley to kick his ass right then and there, plus that wasn’t it at all. Being with Harry was like sitting beside the fireplace while it was snowing and there was no way he was going to say that out loud. Hermione wasn’t dropping the question though. 

“I guess,” Draco sighed, “I never really thought about it.” Hermione’s face lit up. There was the look he had been hoping for. She looked impressed, satisfied. The look of content made Draco’s lips pull up in a smile as he realised that was what Hermione had been looking for, and likely Ron too. They wanted to make sure he wasn’t in this for himself, but that he was there for Harry. 

Harry Potter received the much shorter, “We went out, had coffee and talked for a while,” version of events though. 

Harry waited a beat and then let a baffled grin take over his features, “Is that it?” 

“What were you expecting?” Draco asked. 

“I thought Ron would punch you, honestly,” Harry replied with a grin. 

“I think he nearly did.” 

Harry’s face fell a little, “Are you joking?” 

“I mean; I may have said something about him he didn’t like.” Draco answered letting a small smile appear on his face. Harry looked down right worried and it was honestly such a cute look for him. 

“Seriously, Draco, what did you say?” Harry asked. Draco couldn’t help laughing. “I’m serious, he’ll be on my ass about whatever it was.” Draco wasn’t replying and Harry gently poked his stomach, the light tingles moving up his body added to his laughter. Harry experimentally tickled at Draco’s stomach and he batted Harry’s hands away with a laugh. “If you don’t tell me,” Harry threatened, tickling him again, “I’m going to tickle you to death.” 

“It’s not that big a deal,” Draco replied defensively. Harry didn’t seem to care as he kept tickling Draco. “Okay, okay,” Harry paused. “There was this waitress who gave me her number-” 

“Fair enough,” Harry interrupted. 

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head, but was grinning from ear to ear, “And I offered her number to Weasley. He asked why he would want it and I said, “She seems like your type, she’s a girl who’s single.”” 

“You said what?” Harry replied in mild shock and then started tickling Draco again. Draco couldn’t push his hands off and ended up falling back on the bed, snorting with laughter. “You were meant to make a good impression!” Draco could feel Harry’s finger’s tickling him mercilessly while he begged around his laughs for him to stop. He could feel the tears flowing out of his eyes before Harry actually stopped. He pressed a kiss to Draco’s stomach that made Draco jump, thinking he was going to start tickling him again. 

Harry was hovering over Draco, his sweat slicked shirt still sticking to his body. Draco could feel his blood rushing up to his face and down to his dick. Harry’s little grin said that he knew how Draco was feeling and his eyes were traveling all over Draco’s clothed chest. He started unbuttoning his shirt and then tickled him. Draco jumped up and snorted out another laugh. Harry stopped tickling him and started unbuttoning his shirt again. Draco watched with slight anxiety, unsure when Harry’s hands would stop unbuttoning and start tickling him again. The nervousness shouldn’t have made him more aroused but it did so he mostly just hoped Harry wouldn’t notice. 

When Draco’s shirt was completely undone, Harry put his hands on either side of him before leaning down and kissing him. He lifted one of his hands to run along Harry’s chest. Harry pulled back with a grin and muttered, “I need a shower.” There was an odd look in his eyes, as if he was saying he didn’t _actually_ want to shower. 

Draco raised his eyebrows. “You want to go take a shower? Right now?” Harry nodded and sat up, taking Draco’s hands and leading him up off the bed. He stopped and removed his shirt before taking Draco’s hand again and pulling him closer so the two could kiss. “Oh,” Draco muttered when they pulled apart, understanding where Harry was going with this now. 

Harry’s bathroom was abysmally small compared to Draco’s own. Especially the shower. Still, Harry didn’t seem to have a problem the close proximity. They made out while stripping each other down and then both climbed into the tiny shower. It was a tight squeeze, but they both fit. Harry was facing away from Draco so he could turn on the shower and Draco took the opportunity to press kisses on his back and shoulders. His skin tasted like sweat and felt smooth under Draco’s lips. 

Draco could feel his mouth water at the sight of water running over Harry’s chest and stomach. He could feel cool glass against his back and Harry’s encompassing warmth pressing him against it. There was an arm on either side of him, not actually touching just sort of there, and Harry’s chest brushed against him, effectively trapping him in place. It made his cock twitch a little. Without even thinking about it he adjusted until he could slip down, kissing Harry’s chest and stomach on the way, and took the head of Harry’s dick in his mouth. 

The soft moan Harry made was like music to his ears. He moved his tongue as much as possible, mostly to compensate for the fact that he couldn’t take the majority of the length, which seemed to have Harry muttering soft profanities. His personal favourite being, “Holy _fuck,_ Draco.” The harmony of his name mixing with those exquisite moans was fantastic. 

Harry didn’t have a lot of time to warn Draco before he came this time, which was noticeably quicker than last time. Draco took this as a sign he was improving already, but the shot of come down his throat left him coughing and spluttering which was not appreciated. He looked up to Harry, intending to have a ‘what the fuck, Potter?’ kind of look, but the look Harry had on his face suggested it hadn’t come across that way. Maybe it was because he could feel the hot sperm dripping from his mouth that made Harry obviously so turned on, but regardless he felt a bright red blush appear on his face. 

“Holy shit, uh, sorry,” Harry finally said when he came down from his high. “I didn’t mean to, I, uh,” At least he was equally as red faced as Draco felt. 

“Its fine,” Draco replied a little awkwardly. “It was unexpected, but it’s okay.” Harry moved back enough that Draco had an easier time of getting up and then moved closer again. 

“I promise, I’ll make it up to you,” Harry said while kissing Draco’s neck. One of Harry’s hands reached down and started rubbing his dick while the other one started massaging his ass. He tilted his head back and let out a soft moan. Harry seemed delighted by this little noise of encouragement as he gave Draco’s dick a soft squeeze. He pulled his mouth off Draco’s neck and asked, “Do you trust me?” 

Draco was a little weirded out by the question. He wasn’t sure how to answer at first, considering their past. “With what, exactly?” Harry grinned a little mischievously and Draco understood that the question was strictly restricted to the bedroom. 

“I wanna try something,” Harry replied. 

“Aren’t we already trying something?” Draco asked. “I mean; we’ve been pretty strictly on beds up until this point.” 

Harry smirked a little, “Good point.” He kissed him again. 

“What exactly is this thing?” Draco asked, feeling his cheeks going red again. 

“Swap places with me,” Harry replied. 

The two shifted so that Draco was now more directly under the water while Harry was against the glass. “Why did we switch?” Draco asked. 

“Well first of all, I wanted to see with the water running over you,” Draco felt his face flush and looked away from Harry. “And secondly I-” He froze, shifting a little, “I’m kind of just aware of how awkward these conversations are out loud.” He wasn’t looking at Draco, keeping his eyes trained on the shower floor, “I, um, kind of want to eat your ass, which means-” Draco promptly cut him off. 

“Right, got it. Understood.” He could feel his own face flushing red. He had enough knowledge about this to understand the necessity of being properly clean. This wasn’t the sort of thing that _should_ be done spontaneously. On the other hand, they were already in the shower, making it infinitely easier. 

The next minute or so was uncomfortable, but it was smoothed over a little by Harry kissing Draco’s neck. At one point he stopped with a weird look on his face and muttered, “I think I just drank water off your skin.” 

Pretty soon Draco was standing with Harry behind him, pressing kisses to his back on his way down. The sensation was a little odd, but extremely exhilarating, since he couldn’t see exactly when the little touches would come or where they would be. He was pretty sure he couldn’t get any harder by the time Harry had actually reached his ass. 

The feeling of Harry’s tongue massaging his asshole sent shivers up his spine that made him moan. Meanwhile, Harry’s hand had snaked around to the front where he was pumping his dick. The combined feelings meant Draco didn’t really last very long. 

The two cleaned off (since they were in the shower anyway), dried off and then Draco got redressed while Harry insisted that it was mandatory for him to sit in a towel for at least an hour. Draco, personally highly doubted this. 

Since it wasn’t super late and Draco hadn’t brought a spare change of clothes he decided to leave. Harry was a little dismayed, but he bluntly refused to sleep on Harry’s mattress.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry didn’t see Draco again the next day. He also didn’t see Hermione who had come down with what seemed to be a cold and stayed home from work. As the day progressed he became increasingly aware of the pressure building in his nose and how often he had to sniff or snort so his nose didn’t run. That night, a letter from Draco confirmed he was in a similar situation. He also blamed Ron and honestly Harry did too since he was the only one out of them who hadn’t actually gotten sick.

The day after that, Harry felt like his head was too heavy to lift from his pillow. He called in sick and decided he should stay home. He ended up sleeping until midday, which made him feel worse somehow. He decided the best option was to take some medicine and try to stay awake. It quickly occurred to him that maybe staying awake was going to be easier said than done. His head felt as heavy as a brick and his thoughts came as quickly as a snail making its way through mud. A thought started to occur, but it was a struggle to figure out exactly what he was thinking for a second. The image appeared from the static in his mind and he realised all at once that Draco was sick too. He could go up to Draco’s house and they could get better together. 

The fresh air helped clear Harry’s head, but the slight chill also made his nose run twice as badly. Regardless, he walked to Draco’s house and stood outside the front door, trying to make himself look as well as possible before knocking. Narcissa opened the door with a look of mild surprise on her face. 

“Harry,” She greeted, letting him in, “We weren’t expecting you. I’m afraid Draco’s ill at the moment.” 

“That’s why I’m here actually,” Harry replied. Narcissa smiled a little, it seemed almost fond. It was hard enough to determine each subtle presentation of her feelings without his head working at half its usual capacity. She informed him that Draco was in his room and he thanked her before heading up. 

Harry opened the door to see Draco lying on his bed with his arm over his eyes. He wasn’t under the blankets and there was a soft flush to his skin that suggested he was probably rather warm. There was a bin half filled with tissues and a tissue box that Harry recognised as one of those infinitely full tissue boxes. 

Draco didn’t move from his position and said in a slightly hoarse voice, “I’m not drinking any more of that stuff, mum.” 

“Any more of what stuff?” Harry asked. Draco moved his arm up to see Harry and then immediately went to sit up. His head must have started pounding or something because he immediately fell back down on the bed with a groan. 

“What’re you doing here?” Draco asked as he watched Harry put a bag he had brought with clothes (in case he stayed the night) beside the bed and kick his shoes off before climbing into the bed next to him. 

“Wow, it’s good to see you too,” Harry replied in mock offence. He could feel a sneeze tickling his nose, which Draco must have seen on his face and he handed over a tissue. Harry was halfway through thanking him when the sneeze hit. 

“So you got sick too. Maybe it wasn’t Weasley then,” He grumbled. 

“No,” Harry replied, “It was definitely Ron. Out of us, Hermione and him he’s the only one who didn’t get sick, meaning he was probably the carrier.” 

Draco paused for a beat, “So it was Weasley?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I knew it.” He coughed a few times and then continued, “He’s such an asshole.” 

“That asshole also happens to be my best friend,” Harry replied defensively. 

“Yeah, but you seem to have a taste for assholes.” 

Harry felt laughter bubble to the surface and caused him to shake a little. His laughter quickly turned into a coughing fit that was bad enough for him to struggle breathing. It also caused him a few uncomfortable jolting movements that made his sluggish head pound a bit. “Don’t make me laugh,” He finally groaned, “It makes me feel worse and I already feel disgusting.” 

“You also look disgusting,” Draco replied. He placed the tissue box on the bed between them. Harry looked at Draco for a moment until he asked, “What?” 

“When your poor sick boyfriend comes crawling to you, you aren’t meant to say ‘you look disgusting’ you’re meant to make me feel better.” 

“Okay.” He looked Harry over a few times. Harry raised his eyebrows expectantly. Draco sighed, “I don’t know, I can’t think of anything.” He sniffed lightly. 

“Would you like some examples?” 

Draco shrugged, “Sure.” 

Harry sniffed a little and then said, “Even though you’re an even bigger asshole when you’re sick, I still know that deep down you’re a sweet and loving person.” 

Draco squinted a little. “Bullshit,” He replied. 

“It’s not,” Harry said defensively. 

“It doesn’t even matter if it’s not, it sounds like it is.” Harry watched Draco roll his eyes but saw the tiny twitch of his lips that suggested he was close to grinning. 

“Then what would you consider as a comforting thing that isn’t bullshit?” Harry asked. 

Draco glanced at him and there was something in his eyes. Affection maybe. It was heard to tell; Harry’s brain wasn’t really working. He opened his mouth to say something, paused and then replied, “There isn’t any because you look bloody horrific.” This time Harry rolled his eyes, but he could feel the smile on his lips. 

“Are you saying that if I looked like this all the time you wouldn’t date me?” Harry asked. 

“Are you kidding,” Draco asked, “If you looked like that all the time I wouldn’t even look at you.” Harry let out a small huff of a laugh and then had to blow his nose. “Are you saying that if I looked like every day you’d still date me?” 

Harry looked him over. Sure he looked disastrous compared to normal; the deep black bags under his eyes, the red around his nose from the consistent wiping and the fact that he was so white he looked like he would probably blend in with paper if not for the visible veins and patches of warm red, but did he look so disgusting that Harry wouldn’t date him if he looked like that all the time? No, he almost certainly would have. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Draco said firmly, snapping Harry out of his train of thought. 

“Don’t even think about what?” 

“You’ve got that stupid look on your face,” Draco replied adamantly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry insisted. 

“You’ve got that look you get whenever you’re about to kiss me you git.” 

Harry felt his face turn red, “I don’t make a face when I’m about to kiss you.” 

“You do.” Draco wiped his nose again and then continued, “Don’t even try it.” 

“Alright, alright,” Harry replied. “I get it.” He could still feel a small smile on his face, although he was a little disappointed that Draco wouldn’t kiss him. Then again, they both felt gross so the idea of kissing him wasn’t so extremely appealing that his disappointment could really last anyway. 

The two sat mostly in silence for a little while after that, aside from the occasional cough or sneeze. Draco looked like he was about to fall asleep. Harry was also kind of tired and considered doing the same except that there was a steady throbbing in his head. Luckily, he had thought ahead enough (somehow) to bring along pain killers and a bottle of water. He sat up Draco watched him with mild suspicion as he swallowed the tablets. 

“What is that?” 

“Panadol.” Harry replied. Draco didn’t look any less confused. “It’s muggle medicine,” He answered. Draco looked him over with a small curl forming under his nose. “Do you want to try some?” 

“Merlin, no.” He replied. 

“Oh, yeah, because whatever your mum gave you helped a lot.” Harry smirked down at him. Draco looked like he was going to be stubborn, then held his hand out silently. Harry dropped two tablets into his hand. “Whatever you do, don’t chew them.” 

“Then what do you do with them?” 

“You swallow them whole.” Draco looked up with mild surprise but didn’t say anything as he took Harry’s water bottle and swallowed the pills. He made a face that looked torn between distaste and discomfort. 

They both laid back down and quietly stared up at the ceiling for a second. Draco interrupted the quiet with, “I don’t think it’s working.” 

“It takes a second to kick in,” Harry replied with a small smirk. 

“It’s been more than a second.” 

“Not a literal second, like a minute or two,” Harry said. He listened to Draco grumble a little unhappily but the two fell back into silence again. Pretty soon, Draco once again looked like he was going to fall asleep, but he also looked less feverish and seemed to move a little more freely. His eyes were half lidded and his breathing was deep, but he wasn’t quite asleep yet. Harry also felt extremely tired, although it wasn’t going to be a good sleep. He could feel it in his bones, or, more accurately, he could feel it in his muscles. The sluggish but tense kind of feeling that tended to accompany dehydration. Harry whispered, “You look tired,” vaguely aware of how much deeper and sleepier his own voice had gotten. 

“I am,” Draco murmured. He raised one hand and let his finger brush over Harry’s cheek, the slight contact filled with pure affection that made Harry’s skin raise with goose bumps. “You look sleepy too.” 

Harry took Draco’s hand and gently pressed it against his lips before letting their hands sit between them, loosely clasped together. “You should eat before you fall asleep.” Draco made a soft noise of recognition but let his eyes drift closed. “Draco,” Harry said a little more firmly. He half opened one eye. “I’m serious, you should eat.” He shut his eyes again and sighed through his nose before opening both his eyes and starting to sit up. Harry was right behind him. 

They were both clearly feeling better. Draco’s skin wasn’t as flushed; he could sit up without immediately needing to lay back down, he was moving a little more freely and while he looked tired he didn’t look nearly as fatigued. Harry could also feel his nose was significantly clearer and his head wasn’t nearly as foggy as it had been. They both headed downstairs and Narcissa looked pleased to see them up and moving. She looked like she was going to hug Draco and then seemed to think better of it and gave them a wide berth as they made their way for the dining room. Draco instructed the house elf to get them food and then the two sat, clearly exhausted from their short journey. 

“How did you get here today?” Draco asked, looking red faced again. They were seated across from each other. Even though there was a chair right next to Harry, Draco had elected to take the seat across from him, even if it did require more walking. 

“I walked,” Harry replied to Draco’s clear shock. He stuck out his tongue and made a mock gagging noise and Harry let a sleepy grin form over his face. 

“You must be absolutely smitten to be willing to walk all that way in your condition just for me,” Draco uttered. 

“Maybe I just did it so I could eat your food and use your tissues,” Harry proposed. Draco grinned but looked to the floor. His face had cooled down a little, but seemed to heat up again. 

The house elf returned with food for them after that. Harry hadn’t realised how hungry he was until the food was right in front of him. He hadn’t actually eaten all day and it made a big difference. He could feel his mind clearing and his temperature lowering almost immediately. Draco seemed similarly perked up by eating, the additional energy manifesting in his ability to fix his posture. 

When they had eaten they headed back up to Draco’s room. They both felt better, but not well enough to spend time downstairs around other people. Even if those other people were just Draco’s parents. Actually, at least in Harry’s case, _especially_ if those other people were Draco’s parents. 

They didn’t really talk when they returned to Draco’s room. They both fell asleep rather quickly, even with the energy from the food. At least it felt like an easier rest than the death like sleep Harry thought he was going to fall into earlier. He felt more alive, although no one would guess that if they saw how he practically passed out when his head hit the pillow. Draco watched Harry sleep for a little while before following suit. 

At some point in the middle of the night, Harry’s blocked nose had caused him to breathe through his mouth until it became so dry that he was forced to wake up. His tongue felt like sandpaper and someone in his head was pounding a war drum. He fumbled around in the dark, vaguely aware of the gentle arms around him that tensed when he moved too much, until he found his water bottle. When he had successfully brought himself back from the dead, he looked over to see Draco. His arms had slipped from around Harry’s chest down to his waist and he was clinging there, as if Harry were a life preserver keeping him from drowning. His skin was so pale it practically glowed in the moonlight and the blonde hair on his head was positively silvery. There was a tiny crease between his eyebrows and he seemed somehow upset. Harry laid back down and the crease disappeared, replaced by a soft sigh and Draco snuggling closer into Harry. 

Harry stayed up and ran his fingers through Draco’s hair. His silky, slightly thin hair fell easily through Harry’s fingers and floated back to its place on his head. He couldn’t help marvelling at the softness of Draco’s skin and hair. He tenderly pressed a kiss to Draco’s head. The moment would have been pure peace and serenity if he didn’t have Don’t Stop Believing stuck in his head. 

At some point Harry fell asleep and woke up to find Draco had already woken up and was staring up at him. He hadn’t expected to see someone staring up at him like that and felt his body jolt with adrenaline before completely settling at the realisation that it was Draco. He ran a hand through his hair, as if he could play it off and then covered his mouth as he yawned before groaning out a quiet, “’Morning.” 

Draco was flushed pink, but it didn’t seem to be from yesterday’s illness. In fact, the only sign that either of them were still ill was the soft and occasional sniffing. “I am so glad that yesterday is over,” Draco replied after sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed. He wasn’t look at Harry at all now. 

“Yeah me too,” Harry sighed. He stared at Draco for a moment, expecting him to get up and go to the bathroom. He didn’t. Harry waited to see if he would do something else. Draco glanced back briefly suggesting that he might, only to look away again. Harry’s first reaction was to check if he was naked or something. He wasn’t. Not that it should really have made a difference since Harry was pretty much naked most of the time they spent together. Harry sat up and pressed a kiss to Draco’s shoulder, suddenly aware of how tense he was. He did seem to relax a little as Harry kept pressing kisses over his shoulder and up his neck. He paused, waiting to see if Draco would explain why he seemed to uncomfortable, but after a moment it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything. It also became clear he wasn’t going to look at Harry. “Are you okay?” Harry asked. 

“Huh?” Draco asked, his neck and face getting warmer. “Yes, of course, I’m fine.” 

Harry raised his eyebrows, then realised that Draco couldn’t see how much he didn’t believe that. “Right,” He gently ran his hands up Draco’s back, “Because you’re always this tense.” He could feel Draco relaxing under his hands and leaning back into him slightly. 

“I’m fine,” Draco repeated. Harry rested his head on Draco’s shoulder and looked up at him until he glanced down. He still wasn’t keeping eye contact, but Harry could feel him let out a heavy breath. “There’s nothing wrong, don’t look so concerned.” 

“Something is wrong,” Harry objected. “I just woke up and now my boyfriend won’t look at me and I don’t know why.” He could see Draco’s lips twitch into a small smile and his eyebrows crease just a little. 

Draco mumbled so quietly Harry almost missed it, “I mean, it’s not like that’s what you woke up to.” 

It took a solid second to click in his head, but Harry suddenly realised what the problem was. He wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him into him, snuggling his face into Draco’s neck. He hummed and then asked, “Are you embarrassed that I caught you staring?” Draco didn’t reply and turned his face away from Harry completely. “You don’t need to be embarrassed, I would have been staring too.” 

Draco laughed a little and seemed to relax. He was shaking his head and teased, “Merlin, you’re so corny.” 

“What?” Harry asked defensively, “I’m hot.” Draco laughed again, “I would totally watch myself sleeping.” He watched Draco roll his eyes and felt his heart grow heavy with affection. Draco shook his head before gently batting Harry off so he could go to the bathroom. 

Harry laid back and stared at the ceiling. His mind was thoroughly swamped by thoughts of Draco. Most importantly, the fact that Draco was apparently so easily embarrassed. He was so cute when he was embarrassed and it was apparently such an easy thing to make him feel. He was thinking up new ways to get him to roll his eyes and flush red when he walked back in. Harry turned to him and called, “Hey, beautiful.” Draco gave him a weird look, but didn’t _quite_ roll his eyes. Still, it looked like Harry might be on the right track. 

“You should get out of bed,” Draco informed him, “You’d probably be considered well enough for work.” 

“You know what else I’m well enough for,” Harry replied with an exaggerated wink. This one worked. Draco rolled his eyes and walked over so he could jab Harry gently in the stomach. Harry reacted by reaching up and tickling Draco’s stomach. Draco burst out into laughter and took three steps back. 

“Don’t,” He said firmly, although the edge to his voice was offset by the small smile fighting to stay on his face. 

“Come back here,” Harry whined. 

“Get up,” Draco retorted, sticking his tongue out. Harry took a long breath in and Draco seemed to take that as proof that he had no intention of getting out of bed and turned around to grab himself some clothes to change into. Harry, however, absolutely was willing to get out of bed and crept as silently as possible behind him and grabbed his sides, causing him to let out an alarmed squeal. 

Draco turned around and smacked Harry’s shoulder lightly. He rolled his eyes again and Harry pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You know that’s the third time you’ve done that today, right?” 

“Done what?” Draco asked, still trying to squirm out of Harry’s arms. 

“Rolled your eyes,” Harry replied. He saw Draco’s eyes start to roll again but he stopped himself and just jabbed Harry’s stomach again. 

“Shut up, you git.” Harry grinned and pressed another kiss to Draco’s cheek. Draco turned his head slightly while Harry was pulling back so their lips grazed together. Harry felt himself smirk before kissing Draco properly. Their kiss deepened quickly and Draco’s hands started to tenderly move over Harry’s chest and stomach to his crotch. The pressure felt good, but also brought Harry’s attention to how full his bladder felt. He gently pushed Draco back and shook his head. Draco seemed a little surprised, but also concerned. “Is everything okay?” He asked and Harry couldn’t help grinning a little. 

He pressed a quick peck to Draco’s lips and replied, “Yeah, I just gotta use the toilet.” Draco seemed relieved more than anything. 

He pushed Harry away gently and muttered, “I can’t believe you. Getting me all worked up for nothing.” 

Harry kissed him one last time and muttered, “I’ll be right back,” before heading off for the bathroom. 

Harry returned to find that Draco was halfway through dressing. He was definitely wearing different pants and was holding the shirt he was about to put on when Harry walked in. Harry walked over and gently hooked his finger under Draco’s pants and tugged so he was pulled forward into Harry’s chest. Draco let out a surprised laugh and the two shared a long kiss. At some point, Draco dumped his shirt on a nearby chair and started taking of Harry’s. Harry was quick to help out, breaking their kiss so he could pull his shirt over his head. He kept backing up while simultaneously dropping his pants until he felt Draco’s blankets against the back of his legs. The way Draco looked while watching him back up made his stomach tighten. He sat down and gestured for Draco to join him. 

Draco looked a little anxious as he stripped and approached, mostly leaving Harry wondering what he planned to do exactly. So far they hadn’t done a lot, but every time something they’d already done came up he seemed to be less uncomfortable with it. Right now, he looked like he was planning something different. Harry was even more confused, although admittedly extremely aroused, when Draco dropped to his knees in front of him. Draco’s hands were on his knees, urging him to part his legs and Harry was all too ready to comply. Still it didn’t explain why he looked to nervous. It wasn’t like Draco hadn’t sucked his dick before, a thought that happened to be extremely arousing on its own. 

All thoughts were sent straight out of Harry’s mind as Draco’s tongue slid up the front of his underwear. Harry felt his face flush and a soft moan escaped his throat. Harry kept his eyes on Draco as his hand crept up and started rubbing where his tongue had just been. Draco’s mouth was more preoccupied with Harry’s inner, most upper thigh. He was sucking and softly biting and the worst part was it was right next to where Harry wished his mouth was. The warm, wetness of his tongue swirled teasingly around his skin, right next to his dick. He couldn’t help putting his head back and groaning. He was also aware of the fact that his underwear was wet with pre-cum. 

Without nearly enough warning, Draco stopped. Harry looked back down, both surprised and a tiny bit disappointed. He was straining against his underwear and what Draco had been doing was so good, but the absence of pressure was discouraging. The pressure wasn’t gone long though; Draco gently ran his finger over Harry’s length while also pushing himself up so they could lock lips. Harry tried to deepen the kiss, but Draco pulled away and that awkwardness Harry had spotted before seemed to resurface. He gently pushed Harry’s legs back together, to Harry’s dismay, then he shifted until he had one leg on either side of Harry and sat on his lap. 

All Harry’s previous disappointment and dismay was compensated for in that moment. He could feel Draco’s weight on his legs and the bulge in Draco’s underwear against his own. Draco looked so amazing. He was already taller than Harry, but now looking up at him now he seemed regal. His arms were draped over Harry’s shoulder’s. He seemed to relax a little once they were in the position and Harry’s hands moved up onto his back. Harry could feel his muscles relaxing under his fingers. Draco licked his lips and Harry was about to move in to kiss him when he bucked his hips. Harry bit back a moan as he felt Draco’s dick rub up against his own. A thought crossed his mind for a brief moment before it went totally blank, as he realised he really wanted to fuck Draco in this position. 

The image of the two of them in this exact same position but with himself _in_ Draco certainly helped with Harry tilting his head back and moaning. He considered that he should say something, anything, or at least kiss Draco but he was struggling to remember to breath as it was. Draco kept grinding on him and pretty quickly they were both panting. How to function as a human being quickly snapped back into Harry’s mind and without any hesitation he put one hand on Draco’s ass, the other down the front of his underwear and started to kiss him. 

Draco kept making these strangled little murmurs and whines. His hips also kept jerking and his hands were tangled up in Harry’s hair. It was the pull that caused Harry to buck his own hips. Draco pulled away from their kiss and the two made eye contact. Harry felt Draco shudder before he gave Harry’s hair another soft tug. Harry’s hips jerked up again. This time, Draco came. He didn’t, however, stop bucking his hips. Draco removed one of his hands from Harry’s hair and focused on his nipple instead. Harry moaned a little and his hips moved. He took his hand from Draco’s ass and grabbed Draco’s hand off his nipple, leading it to his dick instead. It didn’t take much of Draco pumping his dick for Harry to come. 

They sat there for a moment, staring at each other until Draco broke the silence with, “I think that’s the first time we’ve done this without you talking.” 

Harry grinned and replied, “Do you prefer me speaking or silent?” 

“During sex? Speaking,” Draco panted, “Any other time, silent.”


	5. Chapter 5

Harry stayed for breakfast before insisting that he had to go to work. Draco had played up his distress to hide his genuine disappointment that Harry wasn’t going to pretend to be sick for him. Sadly, Harry had pulled the “I actually have to work to eat” card. Draco didn’t miss the look on his father’s face. Harry might have, but Draco noticed. It was a shadow of the same kind of face he use to make whenever he would talk about muggles or muggle born wizards. Draco had hoped that they had moved past all of that, and he supposed to some extent perhaps they had, just not enough to stop seeing the working class as lesser than. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t still harbour some of the same opinions, he just didn’t like them being directed at Harry. Draco put all of that out of mind when Harry stole a quick kiss while his parent’s weren’t watching before heading out. Now it was just the three of them again, like always. Or almost like always. There was a tension in the air that Draco quickly traced back to his father.

Lucius looked more tense than normal, his lips pinched just slightly. Narcissa looked at her husband and then glanced at Draco. There was a knowing look in her eyes, one that told Draco whatever his father was going to say was probably going to turn into a lecture at some point and to tread carefully. Draco and Narcissa both looked up to him expectantly. There was a hint of confusion behind his eyes, but Draco and Narcissa had been doing this long enough to know he was still wondering how they both knew every time he had something he wanted, or needed, to say. “I have news,” He finally said. 

“We know, darling,” Narcissa replied, a little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “What is it?” 

“Do you remember the Abbotts?” He asked. Draco nodded, vaguely recalling meeting the pureblood family. Narcissa also nodded, although Draco assumed she remembered them much more clearly. “Well, their eldest daughter, Frances is returning from Australia for her wedding three weeks from now and would like us to attend.” 

Draco was pleasantly surprised by that. He was so sure it would be something terrible. Narcissa didn’t look so satisfied with that. Her eye’s narrowed for just a moment and she said in a cool tone, “Oh?” 

Lucius looked down to her and nodded. They shared a moment of eye contact before Lucius continued. “Draco will, most likely, be expected to escort someone.” 

“Then he’ll take Harry,” Narcissa replied, shrugging delicately. Lucius glanced away from them both and it became abundantly clear that this was the issue. “Oh,” Narcissa repeated, though with a lot more ice in her voice this time. 

“I don’t think a pureblood wedding is something Harry would be interested in,” Draco offered. Lucius looked mildly relieved but Narcissa shot him a look for being so quick to bow. 

“Draco, could you step out for a moment?” Narcissa asked. Her eyes adding the _I need to speak to your father but it isn’t something I want you to hear._

“Mum?” He replied, portraying to her the _I’m an adult now,_ face. 

She closed her eyes briefly and inhaled, something Draco recognised as her attempting to hold back a strong emotion. It was a look she got often, especially when dealing with someone that she considered lower class. He could see the little glimmer of anger behind her eyes and while he knew it wasn’t directed to him he still felt his blood drain from his entire body. “Draco,” She repeated. Her voice was spine chilling. He didn’t argue and stepped out, not envying his father. 

Draco had only just left the doorway when he heard Narcissa hiss, “How dare you?” He stopped and leaned against the wall, listening closely to their conversation. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lucius replied defensively. 

“That is our _son,_ Lucius. How dare you stand there _embarrassed_ by him.” Her voice had lost all the ice and was now as hot as fire. Draco felt his heart catch in his throat. 

Lucius hadn’t dropped his defensive tone, “I’m not embarrassed by him.” Draco couldn’t see Narcissa rolling her eyes, but he had a feeling in his bones that had been her response. He could feel his own eyes pricking. “I’m not,” He insisted. “I have been completely supportive this entire time; I just don’t think it’s smart to-” He stopped. 

“To what?” Narcissa insisted. 

“To advertise it,” Lucius hissed. It was clear now that he was trying not to shout. Draco wiped under his eye as he felt the tears starting to drip out. “We need to keep up appearances and Draco taking _Potter_ to the wedding does not help those appearances.” 

“Why not advertise it? He’s happy, that’s good enough for appearances, isn’t it? Looking _happy_ is one of the biggest part of our appearance isn’t it? Plus, he deserves to let everyone and anyone know if he wants to.” 

There was a moment of silence in which Draco guessed Lucius was accepting his defeat. “Potter isn’t even a pureblood,” He finally said, if a little desperately. “And he always looks scruffy and poor.” 

“It doesn’t matter, he’s Harry Potter. He’s the boy who lived. He can be as scruffy as he likes.” There was a moment of silence before Narcissa spoke in lower, calmer tones. “Listen, darling, please. If you’re worried about our appearance, imagine how much better we will look with Harry Potter on our son’s arm. Potter will probably look a little scruffy, which will only serve to make _us_ look even better. Not to mention, it’s Harry Potter, not just some random scruffy boy, _the scruffy boy who lived.”_ Draco grinned at that and tried not to laugh, “With Harry Potter standing by our side, no one will even question if we had something to do with the dark lord. If they claim they heard you were a death eater, you can laugh and say, ‘why of course not, Harry Potter is here with us.’ No one will even question it.” Then spent another moment agreeing quickly, a moment Draco used to make sure there weren’t any tears, or signs of them, on his face. 

Pretty soon, Draco was being called back in the room and was told by Narcissa that he should bring Harry along. “I still don’t think Harry will enjoy coming to a pureblood wedding, filled completely with purebloods who possibly, you know, wanted him dead… and stuff.” 

“Invite him anyway,” Narcissa replied. She gave him that _I just fought tooth and nail for you, you better do as I say_ look that he had received a few times before. 

Draco felt a little grin pull on his lips while he replied, “Yes mum.” Narcissa wordlessly walked over and pulled him down so she could kiss his forehead before pulling him into a tight hug. Draco felt that weird urge to cry again and mentally batted it away. Lucius looked slightly awkward, but mostly apologetic as he joined the embrace. His father looked much less uncomfortable when Draco successfully freed one of his arms to put around Lucius so he looked less like someone who had latched onto the hug and more like an actual member of the embrace. Draco tried really hard to ignore the fact that he could feel his mother’s breath shuddering a little and that Lucius kept wiping his eyes. It made the whole experience a little uncomfortable. 

After the weird family group hug, Draco escaped to his room and laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The morning he had spent with Harry was rather prominently placed in his mind, although it was awkwardly overshadowed by the thought of his parents expecting them to go to a wedding together. He finally elected to ignore the desire to think about fucking Harry and instead think about getting Harry to a wedding. 

Not just any wedding, a pureblood wedding, filled with purebloods. Purebloods that probably had wanted him dead at one point but were now to afraid of imprisonment to admit it. That would _surely_ go over wonderfully. Assuming that none of them were still faithful to the now dark lord and try to kill Harry, or at least to start some kind of argument with him, there was still the possibility that Hothead Potter might start something with one of them if he recognised them anyway. Plus, Lucius had been right about one thing; Harry was scruffy. He always looked like he didn’t even know what a comb was. Still, Draco supposed there was three weeks to deal with that. The other option was telling his mother that Harry had declined. Then again, if he hadn’t declined he would have to lie. To her face. Yeah that would go over about as smoothly as sandpaper. Yes, Narcissa was better at Occlumency than Legilimency (they both were) but it wasn’t like she _needed_ either when she was his mother. 

Draco figured that he should at least invite Harry. If he did want to come, although Draco doubted and dreaded it, then they would need to go out and get him dress robes. After all, the only time Draco had ever seen him in dress robes was fourth year. Sadly, Draco’s attention had been mostly stolen by Weasley’s godawful excuse for robes. Draco had been sure that those things had been a million years old when he saw them. Regardless, he wouldn’t have his boyfriend showing up in robes he hadn’t worn in several years and defiantly didn’t fit. Assuming he even kept them, which Draco seriously hoped he didn’t. 

Ensuring that Harry would have well fitted, nice dress robes was probably going to take a while. Like at least a few days. Maybe a week. Not necessarily because Potter was finicky, but because Draco knew, and had come to accept, he was. Knowing Harry, he would probably be willing to buy the first thing he found. That first thing would probably also look like an utter disaster. 

Then there was the issue of Potter’s hair. They would have to figure out what to do with that mess. Maybe Draco could convince Harry to get a haircut. He kind of doubted it since he was pretty sure Harry had the same haircut for most of their schooling life. At the very least, he might be able to convince Harry to pull it back or something. If he gave himself three days to nag Potter into getting a haircut, two days to see if he actually did it, three more to book him an appointment and drag him to it by the ear if need be and an additional three to figure out how to work with the new short hair in case it looked awful (all of which he considered the bare minimum) that gave them two days (not including the present day) to not have anything to do with making Potter presentable. Draco was suddenly aware of how much work he was going to have to put in. Not to mention that if anything went wrong in that time frame they only had a two-day margin for error. Plus, he had to get his own dress robes. 

Draco had, in his opinion, nowhere near enough time to ensure Potter’s preventability. He raced down stairs to find his father. 

“What’s the theme for the wedding?” He asked Lucius who seemed thoroughly confused by his son’s apparent enthusiasm for the wedding. 

“I don’t know, they didn’t specify.” Draco huffed a little. 

“Let me see the invitation.” Lucius rose his eyebrows but went and grabbed the envelope. Draco had to resist the urge to snatch it from his hand. He felt so weirdly rushed right now and it was extremely frustrating. He pulled out the invitation to see a white card with a baby blue trimming and silvery lettering. Draco made a face and muttered, “They should have picked a darker blue.” 

“What is it, Draco?” Narcissa asked. 

“I was hoping I could make Potter blend in with the furniture or something,” He replied a little unhappily and returned the card to the envelope before handing it back to his father. Narcissa had one of her rare moments where she lost her composure (at least while entirely sober) and snorted with laughter. Draco felt himself smile at the sound which broke through his sudden frenzy. He only wasted a second to kiss her on the head and tell them that he was heading out before he raced out. 

Draco once again found himself in Harry’s office, although this time he came face to face with a sign stating, “Back in 15 minutes,” with an additional piece of paper taped on it that read, “Or more,” in Harry’s scribbly handwriting. Draco rolled his eyes so hard thought his eyes were going to roll into the back of his head and stay there. 

Luckily, Draco didn’t have to think about for long. Harry and Ron were both returning in that moment, dragging someone who was handcuffed and, weirdly enough gagged. That didn’t seem completely legal, but considering that everyone was swamping them with congratulations, he figured no one really cared. Draco wasn’t sure if he recognised the guy or not, but apparently the guy recognised him. He started pointing to Draco and making shouting noises behind the gag until Weasley finally pulled it out and he shouted, “There’s a death eater right there, it’s Draco Malfoy!” At least one hundred eyes turned to him and only two of them were friendly and they were stuck behind those stupid glasses (since Weasley was still shooting him daggers). If the floor was ever going to open up and swallow him, this was the time for it to happen. 

“Looks like your boyfriend’s here to visit, mate,” Ron teased, giving Harry a small shove. Harry returned the gesture before heading over to Draco. On the way Ron shouted, “Maybe you should arrest him, never know he might like it!” Draco hoped no one noticed how much his face heated up at that and tried to cover it by rolling his eyes. 

Harry responded in kind by flipping Ron off and shouting, “Yeah, go shove your wand up your ass.” In the same breath he turned to Draco and said, “Hey.” Harry kissed him before he could respond. 

Draco was extremely aware of the fact that they were in a public area and was suddenly sure that everyone was staring. Harry seemed to notice this too and opened his office door so he could scurry inside. Away from the prying eyes, Draco felt infinitely relieved. Harry was busily unbuttoning his jacket and made his way to the chair behind his desk which he practically fell into. It looked like all the exhaustion that came with chasing a dark wizard down hit him at once. He was sitting some way away from the actual desk with his legs spread open. He low enough in his seat for his head to rest, lolled against the back of the chair with his half lidded eyes relaxing on Draco. 

“What can I do for you?” He asked, his voice low and sleepy. A smile lazily crept up half his face and suddenly all the worry and rush Draco had felt getting down here leaked out of him. 

“I have to ask you something,” Draco replied moving over to Harry and leaning against the desk with his legs folded neatly between Harry’s spread ones. 

“Oh?” Harry’s voice sounded spiked with curiosity, but not enough to upset the lethargic tones. 

“You seem a bit sleepy though, maybe I should come back later.” 

Harry shook his head drowsily, “No, I’ll be completely asleep later.” He reached out one of his hands and Draco took it, not completely sure what he was doing. Harry gently tugged Draco’s hand and he figured that he intended for Draco to move closer. Draco got up and sat on Harry’s lap instead when Harry rested his head on Draco’s shoulder and hummed quietly. 

Draco started to explain what had brought him to Harry when he realised Harry’s eyes were completely closed. “Are you still awake?” Draco whispered, unsure because of Harry’s deep breathing. He felt Harry nod against his neck, but he still felt like he was mostly asleep. “What have I been talking about this entire time?” Draco questioned. 

Harry looked up to him with a mildly guilty look, “I honestly have no idea.” Draco couldn’t help but smile a little and rolled his eyes. He supposed it was his grin that removed the guilty look from Harry’s face and left him giggling and burying his face in Draco’s neck. “If it makes me look any better,” He muttered, “I was absolutely certain that you were saying something.” 

“How do you usually wake yourself back up after catching someone?” Draco asked. 

Harry shrugged, “Sleep, or I go out and catch someone else.” 

“Somehow I think if you went out to catch someone else you might just fall asleep on them,” Draco replied, pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead. Harry laughed softly and returned the kiss to Draco’s neck. “So, do you have a bed in here or something?” Harry nodded and pointed to what looked, to Draco, like a small couch in the room. “I don’t think that counts as a bed, but okay,” Draco replied quietly, to Harry’s amusement. Draco got off Harry’s lap and led him carefully over to the couch so he couldn’t fall over something in his sleep deprived state. 

Harry flopped rather heavily onto the couch and just as Draco went to ask if he had any blankets stashed around the place he realised Harry was already fast asleep. He was also still gripping Draco’s hand and seemed a little reluctant to let go. Draco freed himself carefully and went and sat in Harry’s desk chair. From there he could see Harry resting, mostly peaceful expect that he seemed to be muttering. He listened for a little while, catching a few words like “Draco,” “moon,” and “Silver.” It sounded like utter nonsense to him, but cute nonsense. He let his eyes scan around the room and quickly landed on a bookcase. 

Draco picked the book with the most worn spine. A hardcover version of ‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard.’ He grinned, the memories of his mother reading the stories to him as a child surfacing. He sat back in the chair and started flicking through the stories. The book smelt a little bit aged, but it was well maintained despite the clear rereading. There was a slight bend to the corners of some of the pages where it looked like Harry had been flicking them. Draco found himself wondering if Harry was catching up on wizard things after being raised by muggles. It made sense that he would do it now, he probably didn’t have a lot of time to when they were Hogwarts since he was constantly having a near death experience. Plus, it might be a little hard to understand what people are talking about if there’s some kind of 

Draco’s thoughts were interrupted when Ron opened the door. Draco looked up from the book questioningly and received a weird look in return, as if Weasley were trying not to glare at him. “You’re still here, huh?” Ron stated. 

“Yes,” Draco replied, letting his gaze settle back on the book. Ron nodded and then stood there a little awkwardly. Draco could feel him staring and wasn’t sure if he was expecting something. He brought his eyes back up to Ron who was looking at him expectantly, but also suspiciously. “Do you want me to leave?” Draco asked. 

“No, I just,” Ron stopped and scratched the back of his neck, “Why are you here?” 

“I have to talk to Harry, so I’m waiting for him to wake up,” Draco clarified. He felt the same kind of awkward tension he had felt while he was being interrogated. 

“Right,” Ron replied and nodded. Draco let his eyes fall back down to the book when Weasley continued, “So what do you need to talk to him about?” 

Draco glanced back up from the book. He shrugged and replied, “The Abbotts are having a wedding and we’re invited.” 

“Wow,” Ron replied. “Sounds,” He paused and Draco watched him search for a word. He was probably thinking things along the line of ‘boring’ but he elected to say, “Fun.” 

“Truly joyous,” Draco replied sarcastically, looking back at the book again. 

“You don’t want to go to the pureblood wedding?” Ron asked, sounding a little surprised. 

Draco didn’t look up this time. “Actually, they’re as entertaining as a normal wedding, I’m just not looking forward to a conversation with the father of the bride.” 

“Right,” Ron repeated. 

“I’m also not completely prepared for the next three weeks of planning which will include having to get Harry new dress robes and figure out what to do with his hair.” 

Ron nodded silently for a second and then added, “And teach him how to dance.” Draco nearly dropped the book. He closed it instead and placed it on the desk before rubbing his temples and taking a deep breath in. How had he forgotten about Harry’s abysmal dancing? 

“Thank you for reminding me,” Draco grumbled. He could hear Weasley laughing, although it was a snorting chuckle that suggested he was trying to hold it in. “I take it you’re enjoying my pain.” 

“I am, actually,” Weasley admitted. 

“You’re what?” Harry asked sleepily as he started to sit up. 

Ron shot a glance to Draco, clearly questioning if Draco was going to snitch on him and play a victim card or something. Draco simply shrugged and replied, “Nothing. How was your nap?” 

Harry didn’t reply until he had stood up, crossed the room and given Draco a small kiss. “It was alright.” Ron made a gagging noise in the background that Draco tried to ignore. Harry sat down on the desk now facing Ron. “So, what’re you here for?” 

“Your report,” Ron replied. 

“I haven’t done it yet,” Harry shrugged. 

Weasley looked a little upset by this and then whined, “Well, shit, who am I meant to copy off now?” 

“You were there,” Harry said, obviously a little shocked. 

“I know, but the boss is never satisfied with my reports!” 

“Because you never do them,” Harry insisted, chucking an eraser from his desk. Ron managed to catch it and threw it back. 

“Tell me you’ve bloody at least started,” Ron pleaded. “Mate, I’m begging you, give me something.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and opened his desk draw. He went through some of the papers and then handed one over to Ron, saying, “There, that’s the report for the last one. They’ll be off your ass about that one at least.” 

Ron pulled Harry into an excited hug and proclaimed, “You’re the best, Harry, I bloody love you.” 

Harry shooed him from the room after that, but Draco caught the fond little grin on his face. Harry’s attention turned back to Draco. “Now, I vaguely remember you saying something about a wedding. Are we getting married?” Draco let out a burst of laughter and shook his head. “Oh, thank god, I was a little worried. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re amazing and all that, but you don’t even like my bed.” 

“That’s because your bed is awful.” “Yeah, but only by your standards. Regardless though, you don’t like my bed so you wouldn’t move in with me and, no offence to your parents, but I don’t think I’d be moving in with your family so marriage right now is kind of off the table.” 

Draco grinned and shook his head before replying, “Not to mention we’ve been dating for a grand total of, what? A week?” 

“It’s felt a lot longer,” Harry added. Draco rolled his eyes. “Anyway, if we aren’t getting married then who is?” 

“Anthony Abbott’s daughter, Frances Abbott is marrying a Rosier. The family is coming back from Australia for the wedding, which we have been invited to,” Draco explained. “Or, well, I mean, I have along with my parents, but I’m expected to escort someone and who better than my boyfriend.” Harry gave him an exaggerated wink and he rolled his eyes again despite the smile on his face. 

“Abbott and Rosier,” Harry repeated, “I heard those names somewhere.” 

“They’re families from the sacred twenty-eight.” Draco replied, if a little cautiously. 

Harry took in a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling. “A pure blood wedding,” He whispered. “Oh, that would be a blast, wouldn’t it? Me and everyone who wanted me dead in the same place.” 

Draco shifted a little, torn between the desire to admit that he was probably right and the desire to point out that not everyone who followed Voldemort was pureblood and that not all purebloods wanted him dead. In the end, he settled on saying, “That’s kind of what I said, but my mother is insistent on you coming.” 

Harry raised an eyebrow and a small grin played on his lips. “I’ve noticed your mother isn’t the sort of person people argue with.” Draco smiled a little but it dropped off his face in shock when Harry continued, “Okay, I’ll come.” 

“What, why?” Draco exclaimed. Part of him had seriously hoped Harry would say no and then they wouldn’t have to spend the next three weeks in a state of pure stress. 

“Honestly?” Draco nodded, “Your mum kind of scares me.” Draco let out a half sigh, half laugh and fell back into the chair. Harry quickly jumped to defend himself, “I’m serious, she’s got those eyes, those ‘do what I say and no one gets hurt’ eyes.” Draco stood up and gave Harry a kiss before he continued, “I mean, you’ve kind of got the same eyes, although on you they’re more ‘please do what I say’ and less ‘you must do what I say,’ you know?” 

Draco shook his head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” They shared another kiss. 

“Although,” Harry murmured, “They’re definitely hotter on you.” Draco paused, pulled back and raised his eyebrows. A beat passed between them as they both froze. Harry stared back a little dumbstruck. “What?” 

“Hott _er_?” Draco asked. 

“Oh,” Harry snickered, “Shit, I uh.” He flushed a little red and looked away from Draco. Draco thought his eyebrows were going to fly off his face if they went any higher at this point. “I didn’t,” He stopped and finally settled on saying, “Look your mum’s kind of mint.” Draco took a step back and shook his head a few times. “It’s not like I’m the only one who thinks so,” Harry cried defensively. Draco just kept shaking his head. “I mean, it’s not like I’m saying I’d do anything with her. I mean, we’re dating and she’s married so,” He stopped suddenly. It was as if he realised what he was saying and that shutting up would be the best option. Draco doubted that was what made him stop, but it was a comforting thought. 

Draco rubbed his temples and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you _actually_ just tell me that you would try to sleep with my _mother_ if we weren’t dating and my father wasn’t in the picture.” 

Harry’s face pinched inward as if he had bitten into a lemon. He admitted through his tight set lips, “Yes.” 

“What the fuck, Potter.” 

“I mean, I wouldn’t actually do it even in that situation, like I said, she’s kind of scary.” Harry was half defensive, although there was clearly also a teasing tone in his voice. “I mean, your dad has to be a masochist or something, right?” Draco tried not to roll his eyes into the back of his head as he replied, “Get out.” 

“This is my office,” Harry replied. 

“Okay, just so we’re clear,” Draco said, advancing ever so slightly, “You are officially banned from talking about my mother; ever.” 

“Ooh, you did get the ‘do what I say’ eyes. You just don’t wear them.” 

Draco put a hand on either side of Harry’s face, directed it so they were looking eye to eye and stated “Stop. Talking.” 

“I thought you said you preferred me talking.” Harry smirked and Draco rolled his eyes. 

“I said I prefer you talking during sex,” Draco retorted. 

Harry’s hands slipped around Draco’s waist and slipped down to his ass. “Well, we could always start something.” He winked ridiculously and Draco rolled his eyes. 

“I have been in here twice and in my experience, Weasley has a habit of barging in unannounced, so no.” Draco could feel his face heating up rather quickly. 

“I’ll put up the back in fifteen minutes’ sign, he’ll get the idea.” Harry’s head was already tilted up by Draco’s hands so he just had to reach up to press a kiss to Draco’s lips. “Plus, worst case scenario, you can hide under the desk.” 

Draco felt a laugh bubble up in his throat and shook his head lightly. “Tempting,” He muttered. Harry kissed him again and then started kissing along his neck. “Very tempting,” He sighed before he could stop himself. He glanced down to see Harry looking up at him, expectantly; waiting to see what he would say. “You’re such a bad influence,” Draco muttered with a grin before kissing him back. Harry’s hands tensed a little in excitement, subsequently squeezing Draco’s ass and causing him to jump. Harry’s fingers made quick work of Draco’s jacket and had unbuttoned half of his shirt before Draco could even break away long enough to remind him of the sign. 

While Harry was occupied with turning the sign back around and putting up a few silencing charms Draco finished unbuttoning his shirt. He took it off just in time for Harry to return and start kissing him again. They shifted together until Draco felt the desk press against him. He got up onto it and put his legs around Harry’s waist. Draco started to lay down when a slight issue started to rise. There was a certain point where Draco would lean too far back and Harry wouldn’t quite be able to reach him to kiss him. Draco only realised after Harry placed a hand on his back and pushed him back up to kiss him again. 

Draco pulled back and laughed. Harry went red faced but still asked, “What are you laughing at?” even though he knew exactly what Draco couldn’t stop sniggering at. 

“You’re too short,” Draco wheezed as he let himself fall back against the desk. 

Harry ducked down and ran his tongue against the front of Draco’s pants, breaking Draco’s laugh into a loud moan. “I don’t think so,” Harry breathed, his breath against Draco’s bulge. He sat up enough to watch Harry remove his pants and underwear. Harry moved back up so he could kiss Draco’s stomach while his hand worked his dick. Harry’s other hand took Draco’s and put it in his hair, looking up to give him a gleeful grin. Draco grinned back and let himself lay back and tried to be washed away in the feeling of Harry’s mouth around his dick. 

The fact that he was lying naked on Harry’s desk wasn’t lost on Draco. The cool wood pressing against his back. The fact that he could see shadows of people passing by Harry’s office from where he was left shivers running down his spine. Every time he saw someone pass by the door he tensed a little, sure that they would open the door to see the position he and Harry were in. Harry’s head buried between his legs and him lying naked and making low, mewling noises and shuddering against the feeling. It probably should have simply made him anxious, but it actually excited him. The thought of the people outside interrupted by the feeling of Harry’s tongue rubbing against his dick was amazing in ways he hadn’t expected. He still didn’t want anyone to open the door, but the idea that they might was at least a little thrilling, as well as absolutely frightening. 

Harry’s tongue massaged against the tip of Draco’s cock and made him moan. It sounded excessively vulgar, but Harry seemed to enjoy as he repeated the action until Draco let out a similar groan again. He tugged at Harry’s hair and felt him moan around his dick in response. The feeling of Harry’s mouth vibrating against dick left him arching his back and biting down a loud whine. He hadn’t come, but he was close. Harry seemed to understand and replaced the slow-moving warmth of his mouth with his much faster hand. Harry leaned down to kiss Draco and the fact that he couldn’t quite reach became relevant enough for Draco to laugh again. Harry lazily told him to shut up, but he was smiling and kissing Draco’s stomach. He came while he was still laughing and it sounded a little weird but, although it felt amazing. Harry didn’t stop grinning. 

Draco took a second to come down from the high before sitting up. Harry was pulling his shirt up over his head and dropping his pants and underwear before Draco even had time to get off the desk. Harry sat heavily in his chair and Draco felt Harry’s eyes trailing over his body. There was a spike of insecurity, although he had noticed it kept getting smaller each time it happened. Draco pecked Harry’s lips before leaving a trail of similarly brief kisses along his neck, chest and stomach. 

Draco was kneeling in between Harry’s legs, faced with Harry’s dick. He took the tip and heard Harry gasp lightly. He was confident in getting Harry off. It was actually pretty easy. He was also getting better at taking more of Harry’s dick in his mouth. He wasn’t sure if Harry noticed, but he certainly had. The first time he had done this he had pretty much just copied everything Harry did for him, but now he was starting to experiment a little. He hummed softly and heard Harry groan in response. He rubbed his tongue against the bottom of Harry’s length and felt Harry shudder in response. A couple of times Harry would grunt, “Fuck,” or “Draco,” and he repeated whatever he had done and received a low moan. It didn’t take long before Harry gently pushed at Draco’s shoulders. 

Harry came rather loudly and then promptly placed a hand over his mouth. Draco snickered at the sound and told him to be quiet again, despite the fact that he was also laughing. They shared a long kiss before they heard the door open. Harry clearly wasn’t thinking as he pushed Draco under the desk and then sat up as if it were just a normal situation. Draco was a little too big to be under the desk and he was definitely going to punch Harry when he got out. 

“Hey, Harry,” Weasley greeted, a little slowly. “Where’s Malfoy?” 

“He just left,” Harry replied. Even from under the desk Draco knew it was bullshit. Although his knowledge might be a little biased based on the fact that he was crammed under a desk. 

“Right,” Ron replied, clearly not buying it. There was a pause before he asked, “Why’re you naked?” 

Harry didn’t miss a beat, “Why aren’t you naked?” 

“Are you sure you should be asking me that kind of thing with your boyfriend hiding under the desk?” Ron asked. 

“I told you, Draco left,” Harry replied. 

“Really?” Ron’s voice had a slightly teasing tone to it. He paused and Draco heard him pick something up off the ground. “Did he leave without his pants?” 

“It’s national naked day,” Harry replied. Ron laughed and maybe Draco would have too if he weren’t crammed under the desk. 

There was another pause before Ron asked, “Why is are you hiding under the desk anyway?” 

Draco felt his face flush, “I have no idea, I kind of just got shoved in here.” He could hear Harry shifting in his chair, strongly suggesting that he was being stared at accusingly. “If it’s any consolation, this is absolutely on the list of ten worst experiences in my life.” Weasley laughed at that, which made Draco’s embarrassment subside just a little bit. It meant that Weasley wasn’t overcome with rage about catching them, which was weirdly comforting. 

Draco heard Ron dump his pants and then pick up something else. “I’m gonna give you two a minute to get dressed.” 

“Where are you going with my shirt?” Harry asked. 

“I’m going to give it to the girls down in reception, mate.” 

Harry bounced out of the chair and started pulling his underwear and pants back on while Draco climbed out from under the desk. Draco took a second to gently punch Harry in the arm before asking him what was so horrifying about Ron giving his shirt to the girls in information. 

“Well,” Harry replied, “One of the girls, Abbie, may have had a crush on me because,” He shrugged, “I’m Harry Potter.” 

Draco snorted and replied, “Really, I hadn’t noticed.” 

Harry grinned and continued, “Anyway, I rejected her and now she hates me because that’s how that works I guess. The other one, Janice, is a lesbian who keeps getting straight girls pretending to be gay or bi or whatever just so they might meet me.” He gave Draco a quick kiss when he’d finished dressing, before leaving. 

Harry tried to ignore the people staring at him. He also tried to ignore the amount of giggling women and the guys asking if he had forgotten something. He finally got to reception to see the two women who hated him most in the world without wanting him dead. 

“Hey, ladies, I believe Ron gave you something of mine,” Harry said. 

They both laughed. Janice shrugged and replied, “We can give it back if you’d like. I will need forty galleons for compensation though. Making a poor little lesbian like me see you shirtless should be a crime.” 

“Funny,” Harry replied and turned to Abbie, “Please?” 

“Sure,” She replied, “For forty galleons.” 

“Why?” Harry asked desperately. 

“Do you know how much your shirts would sell for?” They both started howling with laughter. 

“Please don’t make me wander home shirtless. I could freeze to death.” 

“I’m sure there would be a horde of women ready to warm you back up,” Janice insisted. 

Harry tried to ignore the look on Abbie’s face replied, “But I wouldn’t want them to, since I now have a boyfriend.” 

Janice looked like he had just said he had stabbed someone, “You what? You didn’t tell me!” She opened a draw in her desk and threw a packet of chips at him, gave one to Abbie and opened one for herself. “Tell,” she demanded, munching on a chip. 

“If I tell you will you give me my shirt back?” Harry asked. Janice nodded enthusiastically. “Draco,” He replied. 

“Draco,” Abbie repeated. “As in, Malfoy?” Harry nodded. Janice and Abbie looked at each other in surprise. “When did this happen?” Janice demanded. 

“Like, last week, can I have my shirt back?” 

“There are more pressing matters than your shirt right now, Harry,” Abbie replied. She glanced over his chest and stomach and Harry tried hard to ignore it. 

“Wait, is this last week as in when Ron announced that thing about Draco convincing his parents you two were dating?” Janice asked. 

“Yeah,” Harry replied. 

“Oh Merlin,” Janice replied. She and Abbie shared a look and then she handed Harry his shirt back. He returned the unopened packet of chips before putting the shirt back on. “Is he here now?” 

“He left, I think.” Harry shrugged. 

“Right, but he was here?” Janice asked. Harry nodded. She took on a teasing tone, “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, working?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, what’s your job again?” Harry teased back. 

“We have the same job. We both point people in the right direction. I just do it with a lot less force,” Janice offered. “Anyway, get back to work.” 

“I’d say the same to you but you don’t work,” Harry replied. He was promptly flipped off, but there was a clear grin on Janice’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't get the Tony Abbott, previous primeminister of Australia, is a pureblood joke its cool lmao


	6. Chapter 6

The next three weeks for Harry and Draco had an abundance of frustration and not nearly enough sex. Buying clothes with Harry was worse than Draco could have imaged. As it turned out, Harry did have some level of taste, it just didn’t line up with Draco’s. Everything Draco liked Harry claimed made him look or feel like a monkey in a suit (which Draco blamed on his hair) and everything Harry liked was based entirely on comfort, which was the nicer way of saying it looked bloody awful. The various tailors they saw were all rather thrilled to serve Harry Potter when they walked in and like they hadn’t slept in four years when they left. They ended up compromising somewhere in the middle with a set of dress robes that Harry found comfortable and Draco thought wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever seen. Draco had to continually remind himself that he was going with Harry Potter, so people wouldn’t be overly concerned about what he was wearing. Hopefully.

Then there was Harry’s hair to worry about. Draco had managed to nag and badger him into getting his hair cut on his day off, only for him to not do it. Or so Draco had thought. They had a small argument where Harry insisted he had cut his hair and Draco pointed out that it was still long and shaggy. It had ended with Harry pulling out a pair of scissors and cutting off a lock of his hair to Draco’s shock and horror. In about a minute it had grown back. Harry explained that it was a reoccurring issue that had been around since he was a kid. Draco took a second to consider strangling Harry before flicking over to what to do about this situation. He ended up spending hours sitting on Harry’s bed with Harry sitting in front of him and trying to make The Hair from Hell cooperate. In the end, he just buried his face in Harry’s hair and groaned while Harry laughed. 

Harry tilted his head back and Draco leaned forward so they could kiss, even if it was a little awkward. It didn’t take much for Harry to turn around and push Draco on the bed so he could crawl on top of him. The moment was filled with giggly kisses, getting their shirts off as quickly as possible, a few tickles and Harry’s leg rubbing against Draco’s groin. It lasted about four minute and was also the closest they would get to having sex for the three weeks they spent preparing for the wedding. Halfway through their little moment an owl appeared in the window, dropped a letter and started screaming. Harry looked at it and then grumbled about it being from work before burying his head in Draco’s neck. He only stayed there for a second before grabbing the letter which made the bird shut up and fly off. Harry went white reading the letter and quickly put on his Auror jacket, quickly telling Draco he had to go and was gone before Draco could even say goodbye. Draco considered reading the letter, just to find out who Harry was going after, but he had taken the letter with him. 

The last week before the wedding was filled with many similar experiences where they were both ready to go, only for something to interrupt them. Since it was the week Draco decided to dedicate to teaching Harry how to dance (which he wasn’t improving at even a little bit) there was a lot of fumbled steps and awkward bumps and while most of them didn’t result in anything but Draco complaining and Harry laughing, some of them resulted in kisses and all out snogging. All the sweeter moments were interrupted by Harry having to race off to work. They also had a few close moments in Harry’s office, only for Granger or Weasley to interrupt resulting in a plenty of awkward looks from Weasley and enough disapproving looks from Granger to put his mother to shame. Speaking of which, they nearly had one moment at Draco’s house, only for the dreaded day when one of his parents walked in to become a reality. It was even worse because his mother hadn’t just walked in for no reason, rather she had a letter for Harry that insisted he leave for work. Again. Draco had also tried waiting at Harry’s house until he came home, which was always late at night and had only ended up resulting in Harry falling asleep on top of him. 

The time spent while Harry was at work, however, did prove to be rather interesting. After a week of pretty much daily sex, to suddenly not have any was more than a little frustrating and lead to quite a few nights were Draco jerked off. There was one late afternoon that was a little different though, with nothing better to do but think of Harry, he found himself wondering what it would feel like to have Harry inside him. The idea of Harry in him was, needless to say, enticing. The fact that he had never done something like that before, however, was mildly frightening. It did lead him to spend a while with lube on his fingers, practicing putting them in though. 

The first time he jumped so high he nearly hit the ceiling, but then slowly started to become more use to the feeling. It felt strange, but still kind of good, moving his finger slowly and carefully in and out of his ass. He started moving it so that it pressed against the walls when it moved until he felt confident enough to put in a second finger. After a minute with both of his fingers in his ass he brushed against a muscle that had him throwing his head back and letting out a shout. His fingers froze for a second while he took a few deep breaths. He felt so inexplicably close to coming. When he had settled down enough that he was sure he could move again without coming he started to move his fingers, only for them to brush against that muscle again. This time, they didn’t make contact the same way. Instead of rubbing against it, they just barely brushed, making it much easier for Draco to keep going. He still moaned again, but at least he wasn’t shouting this time. This carried on until he had fit three fingers in and then fucked himself until he came. 

The night before the wedding, Harry stayed at Draco’s house. It made the most sense since it would be easier to get to and from a pureblood wedding wearing dress robes if there aren’t any muggles to question his odd choice in clothes. He came straight from work, looking rather exhausted. He seemed to be struggling to stay awake while they ate dinner and was completely dead to the world two seconds before his head hit Draco’s pillow. Draco removed Harry’s shoes and jacket while he slept before crawling in beside him. 

Draco walked into Harry’s office. Harry was relaxing with his feet up on the table and his jacket open. “Shouldn’t that jacket be done up?” Draco asked. 

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Harry asked. “Need me to arrest you?” Draco wordlessly moved to Harry’s side of the desk and perched there. Harry’s eyes were firmly trained on his while he clicked the handcuffs in place. He stood and pushed Draco back on the table, attaching a chain Draco hadn’t noticed to the handcuffs. The chain kept Draco’s hands above his head and incapable of sitting up, leaving him defenceless against Harry’s wandering fingers. 

Harry stood over him, letting his fingers trail over Draco’s chest and stomach. They trailed slowly, feather light, over Draco’s groin and left Draco tilting his head back and moaning. Harry had a playful grin on his lips. Lips that he pressed to Draco’s stomach while his fingers continued dusting over Draco’s dick. Each touch, every kiss felt so soft, far away. There was a clear teasing element to each soft press of his lips and every brush of his hand. His heavy, lightly shaking breaths against Draco’s stomach felt firmer than the touch of his lips. He also moved slowly, pressing his lips down to Draco’s stomach and holding them there. Letting his had crawl slowly over Draco’s dick, so airy and delicate that it was infuriating. Draco moaned and tried to move his own hand down to give himself some satisfaction, only for the chain and handcuffs to clink loudly and hold him. 

Harry tutted quietly, his hot breath against Draco’s annoyingly clothed stomach. The only thing he had successfully accomplished was that Harry ran his tongue firmly over Draco’s bulge and made him cry out. It only lasted a second before Harry was back to tormenting him. At least he was now muttering his name, over and over. “Draco, Draco, Draco,” He muttered over and over again. It took Draco a moment, but started to realise that the speaking wasn’t coming from above his stomach and the dream faded away. 

Draco woke up to darkness and Harry gently shaking him. “Hey,” Harry whispered, “Are you okay?” 

Draco’s mind took half a second to recall the dream and he felt a pout growing on his face, “Why’d you wake me?” 

“You were having a bad dream,” Harry replied. 

Draco nearly laughed out loud, burying his face into his pillow and muttering, “Right, sorry for waking you.” 

Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and whispered, “It’s alright. Are you okay?” 

Draco felt a smile force its way onto his face along with a bright red blush, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He wasn’t going to admit to Harry what he’d actually been dreaming of if he didn’t have to. That would be way to embarrassing. Especially since Harry, being Harry, would probably want details. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked. 

“No, go back to sleep,” Draco replied, trying to keep as much of his laugh out of his voice as possible. It didn’t work. 

“Are you laughing?” Harry asked. There was a moment where Draco tried to deny it, but it wasn’t working. “You weren’t having a nightmare, where you?” Harry teased. 

“No,” Draco admitted. 

“What were you dreaming about?” Harry asked. Draco told him to go back to sleep but Harry refused. “You can tell me, I’m your boyfriend. I won’t tease you… too much.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s encouraging,” Draco grumbled. 

Harry’s hand snaked down to Draco’s dick and rubbed gently. “Is that better?” He breathed. 

A moan escaped Draco when he replied, “Absolutely.” 

“So tell me,” Harry insisted, kissing Draco’s neck. Draco let one of his hands reach up into Harry’s hair. 

Draco replied around shaky breath, “We were in your office, on the desk.” 

Harry hummed, “Is that it? We’ve already done that.” Part of Draco wanted to tell him about the handcuffs and the way he had been just barely brushing against him, but another part of him kept imagining Harry looking at him like he was weird. Something in his brain clicked with the fact that they were in the dark and even if Harry did look at him like he was weird Draco wouldn’t see it. 

“Your handcuffs may have been involved,” Draco admitted. Harry’s hand stopped for a second and Draco felt a sudden shot of anxiety. Would he think that was weird? 

Harry started laughing and shifting so that he was on top of Draco. “So Ron was right?” 

“What?” Draco asked before letting out another soft moan when Harry’s hand returned between his legs. 

“You would like it if I handcuffed you.” 

Draco scoffed, “I didn’t say _I_ was handcuffed.” 

“Right,” Harry replied around kisses he started pressing around Draco’s neck. “What’s that thing everyone always says, ‘You didn’t say it with your mouth?’” 

“And what did I say it with?” Draco asked. Harry didn’t reply instead disappearing under the covers with a soft laugh. After a second Draco felt his pants being pulled down and Harry’s tongue running from the base to the head of his dick. 

“Anything else?” Harry asked, his hot breath against Draco dick. Draco’s mind was to occupied by Harry’s warm breath to think straight. Eventually the question clicked. 

“I don’t think I want to tell you about that,” Draco replied. He knew if he told Harry about those feather light touches he would have them used against him. 

“Please,” Harry encouraged. He kissed his way back up Draco’s stomach and chest until his head emerged from under the blankets so he could kiss Draco’s lips. Harry’s hand returned to Draco’s dick and started gently massaging so that any words Draco’s mind might have formed turned instantly to gasps and moans. Harry still muttered words of encouragement, but each one was breathy and quiet, pressed against Draco’s skin. His dick was starting to ache; Harry’s hand was too slow and he knew right at that moment that he didn’t need Harry finding out about the soft touches in his dreams. He definitely didn’t need Harry experimenting with teasing him right now. It also didn’t help that he couldn’t think well enough to describe it. 

Draco’s hips started to buck and he gripped at Harry’s hair. Words started to spill from his mouth, but they were more “Harry, please, I’m so close,” and less a description of those soft touches. Apparently, this was reason enough for Harry to stop moving his hand. Draco put his head back and moaned out all his frustration at the sudden loss of pressure. 

“Why’d you stop?” Draco asked, aware of the little whine in his voice. He barely resisted the urge to start jerking off. 

“Because I still want you to tell me what I was doing to you in that dream,” Harry explained. That didn’t seem like a satisfactory reason to Draco. 

Draco scoffed and grumbled weakly, “I don’t know how to describe it.” 

“Then show me,” Harry insisted. 

Draco rolled his eyes in response before realising that Harry couldn’t see it. His face felt warm and grumbled quietly, “You’re probably going to think it’s moronic.” 

“Probably,” Harry agreed, “But I promise not to laugh too hard.” Draco punched him lightly. He aimed for his shoulder, but in the dark he ended up hitting his bicep. “Is that what you were dreaming about?” Harry asked teasingly. 

Draco rolled his eyes, once again realising Harry couldn’t see it before responding, “No.” He started very carefully running his fingers down Harry’s chest. He made sure his hands were just barely brushing against him as he slowly journeyed down to Harry’s dick. He heard Harry’s breath hitch and brushed swirling patterns over Harry’s crotch. Harry let out a few sounds of frustration and bucked his hips, clearly trying to get more friction. Draco kept his touches light and teasing. 

With seemingly no warning, Harry’s hand was suddenly around Draco’s wrists and he pinned them down to the bed. There was a tiny bit of fumbling in the dark, but it didn’t take away from the fact that Harry’s weight was pinning Draco down. He could feel Harry’s weight against him and the warmth of his body through their clothes and it made his mouth water and his aching dick throb. “You’re playing a dangerous game there, Malfoy,” Harry murmured before kissing him roughly. Harry started grinding his hips into Draco’s and they both moaned into the kiss. Draco’s aching dick was finally getting from friction again and it felt glorious. His own hips started bucking to meet Harry’s in semi frantic thrusts. Harry pulled back for a moment and Draco heard a plea escape his lips before he could stop it. 

One of Harry’s hands released Draco’s wrist and returned between Draco’s legs. Draco was quick to slip his own hand down Harry’s pants too, but it was undeniable that Draco would come first. He was bucking within seconds of being touched. When he came, Harry kissed him to muffle his moans again. Then the two shifted so that Draco could suck Harry’s dick. It was a little difficult in the dark at first, but once the tip was in his mouth everything went rather smoothly. Harry came rather easily, although considering how long the two had spent without having sex it was unsurprising. 

Harry got out of bed and the candles automatically lit themselves so he could see well enough to vanish the evidence. He then crawled back into bed, all the candles extinguished themselves and the two fell asleep almost immediately. 

The next morning, Draco fussed pretty much all morning over Harry. He spent way too long trying to make Harry’s hair cooperate despite knowing it was in vain and a slightly excessive amount of time straightening and restraightening Harry’s tie. He was obviously uneasy about something and that something obviously had to do with Harry. He didn’t want all the purebloods at the party to look down on Harry, especially not for his sense of dress, so he ended up fretting over every little misplaced hair. At some point, Harry clearly had enough and gently grabbed Draco’s wrist. 

“Draco,” He said a little sternly. They were in Draco’s bathroom where Draco had started grieving over his hair again. “You need to calm down.” 

“I am calm,” Draco insisted. 

“Right,” Harry replied sarcastically, “And I’m a movie star.” 

“A what?” 

“Nothing. Anyway, I know you’re worried about something.” Draco shrugged again. Harry took Draco’s other hand and then tried to make eye contact. Draco kept his eyes carefully trained away from Harry’s face. “Draco,” He repeated. 

Draco looked to him sighed. “We’re going to a pureblood wedding,” He explained, “I just don’t want them to pick on you, or fight you, or something.” 

“They won’t,” Harry replied firmly. “I’m Harry freaking Potter.” Draco felt a small grin pull at his features and he rolled his eyes. 

“So you keep telling me.” Draco pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Just, try not to do anything overly stupid.” 

“Well, shit,” Harry replied with a slight pout, “There goes all my plans for this wedding.” Draco shook his head disapprovingly but there was still a smile of his face. “I mean, who’ll start a food fight now? Or set the bride’s dress on fire?” 

“Very funny.” 

“I know,” Harry grinned and softly kissed Draco. 

After a second Draco implored, “Just please don’t dance with anyone.” 

Harry laughed and while Draco joined him, he hadn’t actually been joking. Harry didn’t seem to realise this and instead placed one of Draco’s hands on his own shoulder before putting his hand on Draco’s waist. “I happen to think I’ve improved.” 

“I happen to disagree.” The two started dancing and it quickly became evident that Draco had been right. 

They didn’t dance for long since they had a wedding to attend. They ate breakfast with Narcissa and Lucius, the latter of whom seemed to be growing a certain distaste for Harry again. He didn’t speak to Harry unless absolutely necessary and always in a cold and curt manner. Narcissa also seemed to notice this shift in tone. 

They apparated to the wedding and Harry seemed immediately out of place. While the scruffy but undeniably attractive guy always looked a little less well-groomed compared to the Malfoys, it was shockingly more obvious when there was a large group of people and everyone was rather exceptionally dressed while Harry looked, well, comfortable. Despite the obvious comfort of his clothing, however, there was clear discomfort in the way he stood and acted making him look even more out of place. It probably didn’t help that everyone was staring at him since he was, as he kept reminding Draco, Harry freaking Potter. 

The wedding was about as entertaining as wedding are. People wanted to get to know Harry, after all he was Harry Potter and Harry seemed a little overwhelmed. A few families steered well clear of Harry since they were known to be associated with death eaters, but mostly everyone kept wanting to speak to him. A lot of the girls also wanted to dance with him, and any who didn’t want to dance with Harry seemed to want to dance with Draco and since he actually didn’t have the “I can’t dance” excuse he spent an awful lot of time dancing. Harry didn’t seem to mind, per se, although Draco did catch him staring more than a few times. 

The bride’s dress was pretty, although nothing that could really be gawked at. Then again everyone always seemed to gape in awe at even the simplest of wedding dresses and pronounce every bride they ever see as the most beautiful. Draco, of course, insisted the same things as everyone else; the dress was perfect, Frances was the most beautiful bride he had ever seen, her dress absolutely suited her, of course she looked spectacular and no the tan lines were that awful. He didn’t really think half of those things, but he considered it better to say them and be allowed to speak with the bride than have to speak with the father of the bride. 

When Draco finally had the opportunity to sit it took every ounce of strength he had not to collapse on the chair. Harry was beside him with a small grin on his face and an exaggerated wink ready, along with the line, “Tell me, why have I been dancing with you when watching you dance gives me the perfect opportunity to stare at you?” 

Draco laughed and rolled his eyes at Harry. “Because you are an abysmal dancer.” 

“So you keep telling me,” Harry replied. He took one of Draco’s hands and started drawing in the palm with his fingers. “Honestly though, I do have to ask, how many of those girls tried to cope a feel?” 

Draco raised an eyebrow, “None.” 

“Really?” Harry asked. “But the opportunity was right there?” 

“Surprisingly, Potter, not everyone is a pervert.” 

“I’m shocked and offended that you think of me that way,” He informed. He lifted Draco’s hand and pressed a small kiss to it. Draco used his other hand to grab himself a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. “You know, you could come dance with me instead.” 

“Are you joking? I don’t think I can even stand,” He whined. 

Harry winked, leaned in close and replied quietly, “I didn’t say you had to stand.” It took Draco a second to figure out what he was talking about and immediately did a spit take. 

“Really, right now?” Draco questioned. 

“No, not right now,” Harry laughed. “Although, people do, do that at weddings.” Draco rolled his eyes, “No, I’m serious, it’s a whole thing. Like the most common event to get laid at is a wedding.” 

“Why do you know these things?” 

“Mostly to embarrass you,” Harry answered. Draco felt his face growing warm. Harry had returned to drawing in the palm of his hand and Draco realised the fact that it was the same pattern he had been tracing over Harry’s dick the night before. He looked up to Harry to see a slightly mischievous look in his eyes and knew that the git was doing this on purpose. 

“I know what you’re doing,” Draco grumbled, taking his hand back. “You’re the worst.” 

“I’ll make it up to you later,” Harry promised. 

Draco gave him a mildly disapproving look just in time for their conversation to be interrupted by one of the Avery girls. She was a few years younger than Draco and Harry, with long, dirty blonde hair pulled back from her face so tightly it almost seemed to stretch her skin. She did have pretty features, although she seemed to keep her eyes away from their faces and there was a clear rosy flush to her cheeks. She introduced herself as Edie in a quiet voice. 

“I’m Draco, this is Harry.” 

“I know,” She replied, briefly glancing up. She seemed to realise what she said and put her eyes back down to her lap. She didn’t continue, instead glancing off to the side briefly. Draco and Harry followed her eye line (Harry a lot more obviously than Draco’s subtle glance) and saw her parents who seemed to occasionally glance over to them. 

“So,” Harry prodded, “What brings you to our side of the wedding?” 

Edie’s eyes glanced back to her parents, “We, I was wondering why you aren’t dancing.” She briefly looked up to Harry who was quick to give her one of those ridiculously charming half smiles. 

“That’s an easy question, I really, really suck at it,” Harry laughed. Edie looked up a little longer this time with a little smile playing on her features. 

“Really?” She asked. 

“He’s abysmal,” Draco replied. Harry laughed, which seemed to encourage Edie to do the same. 

“You keep saying that. You need some new descriptive words.” Draco snorted a little at Harry’s words. 

“How about horrific; horrendous, dreadful, atrocious, appalling-” Draco offered. 

He was interrupted by Harry fake laughing and muttering, “Very cute.” He turned back to Edie who was giggling quietly. “Regardless,” He dramatized his voice and made it slightly higher pitched to continue, “I’ve been forbidden from dancing, lest I bring dishonour on my family name.” 

“It’s not _your_ family name I’m worried about,” Draco grumbled in response. 

“You’re right,” He replied normally before switching back to the higher pitched voice, “I’ve been forbidden from dancing lest I bring dishonour to the Malfoy name despite quite obviously not being a Malfoy.” Draco rolled his eyes, but Edie was a bundle of barely contained screeches of laughter. 

“By all means then,” Draco challenged, “Go dance with Edie. That is, if you’re willing to put her through that kind of trauma.” 

“Draco, do you remember when I called you dick?” 

“Are we talking about any particular incident because that happens a lot?” Draco asked. Harry shook his head. “Then yes, I remember.” 

“That still stands.” Draco snorted out a small laugh and then watched as Harry stood, briefly stopping to give Draco a small kiss on the head and held his hand out to Edie. He put on that ridiculous high pitched voice, “Might I have this dance, m’lady.” Draco shook his head and resisted the urge to rub his temples. Especially when Harry bowed. Draco didn’t think it was possible to screw up a bow, and yet Harry managed, somehow. Edie seemed mildly shocked and looked between Harry and Draco a few times, clearly unsure if he was joking. She took his hand and started walking with him to the dance floor. Harry did lean in and whisper to her, “I should warn you though, he’s actually right about my bad dancing.” He probably didn’t realise he was close enough for Draco to hear him. 

Draco watched with amusement as Harry danced with Edie. The two did seem to be having fun and there were clear giggles between the two of them. Edie’s shyness also seemed to be melting away as they danced. Draco would have watched longer, however it turned out he hadn’t quite danced with every girl yet. There were also a few girls who wanted to dance with him a second or third time and if it weren’t for how exhausted he was, despite forcing himself to appear reenergised by every conversation, he might have realised why. 

Draco finished dancing, again, and sat back down beside Harry. Harry had been sitting for a while and seemed well rested to Draco’s annoyance. 

“Wow,” Harry teased, “You sure are popular.” 

“I think I need my feet amputated,” Draco replied. 

Harry laughed. Draco shot him a look that highly suggested he wasn’t joking and he quickly adopted a more sympathetic look. “You know you’re allowed to say no, right?” 

“Technically, yes, but you know it’s considered an insult to dance with one girl and then refuse another, right?” 

“I didn’t, actually. Does that mean that I insulted a bunch of women by refusing to dance with them and then dancing with Edie?” Harry asked. Draco nodded in reply. “Well, at least they stopped asking after I danced with her.” 

“Maybe that’s because they realised how much you suck at it,” Draco offered to Harry’s little grin. 

“At least I’m not good at it. You’ve been dancing for hours.” Draco let out a tiny huff of a laugh and Harry picked up his hand to press a kiss to it. “Also, I realised two very interesting things today.” Draco answered with an interested hum before Harry continued, “One was courtesy of Edie, which is that purebloods have a very different way of feeling people up than everyone else.” 

“Oh?” Draco asked, his interest genuinely peaked. 

“Well,” Harry explained, “I don’t know if you noticed, but a lot of the girls you danced with let their hands move around on your shoulder, like sometimes it’ll start on the middle part of your shoulder and they’ll move it closer to your neck and then down to your bicep and stuff.” 

“I did notice that,” Draco replied. “I assumed that their hand slipped.” 

“Well, according to Edie, that is entirely intentional. That’s why it happens to you all the time and nowhere near as often to everyone else.” 

“I had no idea,” Draco admitted. “What was the other thing you realised today?” 

“Purebloods don’t have phones.” 

Draco paused for a moment. “You only just realised today that wizards don’t have phones?” 

“Not wizards,” Harry corrected, “Purebloods. Hermione has a phone. Lots of muggle born and half-bloods have phones.” 

“So?” Draco asked, not seeing the point. 

“So pureblood girls can’t give you their numbers, so they give you their names,” Harry explained as if that made any sense. Draco gave him a look to suggest he had no idea what Harry was talking about and he seemed to understand. “Edie introduced herself as just Edie, right?” Draco nodded, “Well, half the other girls are coming over and giving you their full names so you can write to them.” 

“Oh,” Draco replied. “You’re right.” 

“How many girls have given you their full names instead of nicknames and stuff?” Harry asked. 

“I don’t know,” Draco shrugged. He looked around, a few names stuck out, “I mean, I already knew most of them to begin with, but I did get a few of the girls introducing themselves again.” 

“And now we know why,” Harry replied with a grin. 

Draco took a moment to look through the crowd, now much more aware of all the girls who he had already known reintroducing themselves. He was also aware that some of those girls were glancing back at him. Finally, he settled on rubbing his temples and muttering, “I’m too gay for this,” under his breath. He turned to Harry, “How many have introduced themselves to you?” 

“Pretty much anyone unrelated to a known death eater and some who _are_ related to known death eaters. One of them even introduced herself and said that her father had an active role in trying to kill me, so I might have heard the name.” Harry answered. Draco looked over to him and the two shared a morbid laugh at the situation. 

“At least no one has tried to kill you,” Draco offered. 

“True,” Harry agreed, “The groom has informed me that I put a few of their guests in prison though.” 

“When?” Draco asked. 

“Well,” Harry replied with another morbid laugh on his lips, “You know how I’ve been so busy this past week?” Draco nodded. “It turns out that was because a lot of people thought it would be a good wedding present to give the bride and groom with my head, or some dark artefact and a whole lot of other bullshit.” 

Draco felt his jaw drop and blinked a from the surprise. “You’re joking,” He insisted. Harry shook his head. “You spent all that time working because people were trying to get illegal wedding presents,” Draco said out loud. The absurdity was too much for him. 

“Exactly,” Harry replied. 

“Why not just get them a tea set or something?” Draco asked. 

“Most people already have a tea set,” Harry shrugged, “Not many people have Harry Potter’s head.” Draco snorted. He glanced over to Harry to see him staring with a little half smile and half lidded eyes. 

“What’re you staring at?” Draco asked. 

“You,” Harry admitted. Draco felt his face flush bright red and rolled his eyes. 

“Why?” Draco persisted. 

“Would you rather I look at her?” Harry teased, nodding to one of the women in the crowd. “Or maybe him, he’s cute,” He offered. Draco followed Harry’s eyes to one of the guys in the crowd. 

“You’re not his type,” Draco replied. 

“And how do you know that?” Harry asked. 

“Because I’m his type,” Draco answered quietly. Harry looked like he was going to choke on air. 

There was a question on Harry’s lips, but he seemed to be questioning if he should actually say it. Draco raised his eyebrows expectantly, which seemed to encourage him to speak, even if it was rather hushed, “When you said that someone had,” He coughed a little, “You know,” Draco nodded and he continued, “Was it him?” Draco nodded again. Harry looked mildly conflicted, “Interesting choice.” 

“Interesting isn’t the word I would use. He was about as interesting as a blank piece of parchment,” Draco grunted. Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting more details. “We were at a wedding,” Draco began, only to be interrupted by Harry. 

“And to think you were rolling your eyes when I said people do that at weddings,” Harry teased. Draco rolled his eyes again but couldn’t get his face to cool down. 

“Are you jealous, Potter?” 

“You wish, Malfoy,” Harry snickered. He moved close enough to whisper in Draco’s ear, his hand moving to rest on Draco’s thigh, “We wouldn’t want to break tradition though.” Harry’s hand on his thigh was tracing that same lazy pattern that he had drawn over Draco’s palm and his voice was warm and comforting against his ear, too bad that what he was saying made no sense. 

“Tradition?” Draco repeated. “It happened one time.” 

“I’m trying to subtly sexy,” Harry whined quietly. 

Draco sighed and shrugged, “You’re not failing.” 

Harry laughed and then whispered, “Come disappear with me for a little while.” Draco looked Harry over briefly. The offer was tempting. 

“I’ve already told you that you’re a bad influence, right?” Draco asked. Harry nodded. “Good, just so we’re clear about that before we go.” Harry smirked and the two left. 

They probably could have been less conspicuous on their way, but neither of them cared enough. They headed to somewhere a little more private, that being the bathroom, and locked the door. Almost immediately, Harry had Draco in his arms. They kissed for a few seconds before Harry started carefully leading Draco backwards until his back was up against the wall. Then he placed his hand over Draco’s crotch and started to trace that same teasing pattern. 

Draco couldn’t hold back his whine even if it was muffled by Harry’s mouth. Harry’s other hand was loosening Draco’s tie and undoing the first few buttons of Draco’s robes. Draco had one hand in Harry’s hair and the other quickly made its way down Harry’s pants. Harry groaned and for one brief moment his hand pressed more firmly onto Draco, making him melt and moan. Once enough of Draco’s buttons were undone, Harry moved his mouth to Draco’s neck. 

“No hickeys,” Draco said around a whine. 

Harry pulled back and replied, “One hickey.” 

Draco raised his eyebrows. “When did this become a negotiation?” 

“When I realised I could put one hickey right,” Harry moved in and gently bit Draco’s collarbone making him let out a short shout, “There and no one would ever notice.” 

Harry raised his eyebrows expectantly. Draco thought for a second. He was right, no one would see a hickey there and getting one, in his experience, was worth it. “One hickey,” Draco repeated. Harry looked thrilled and kissed his mouth before returning to Draco’s collar bone and sucking and biting there instead. 

Now Draco had Harry relentlessly nipping and sucking at his collarbone while his dick only received light brushing through his pants. The contrast was infuriating. He tried to focus on Harry’s pants and getting them off, which was proving to be a little difficult when he could barely think. He had to use both hands, but pretty soon he had successfully pulled them down and batted Harry away long enough for him to get on his knees. 

Draco was very aware of the way Harry was looking at him. His eyes looked hot and his mouth was hanging just slightly open. This was a look Draco was quickly getting used to seeing, although he wasn’t sure the shudder running down his spine was ever going to go away when he saw it. He stopped thinking about it and started focusing on sucking Harry’s dick. He wanted to see just how much of Harry he could fit in his mouth and found that he was getting better at fitting in more and more. He almost had Harry in from tip to base. He glanced up to see Harry’s face and was met by the sight of Harry staring up at the ceiling while he muttered, “Oh fuck,” and put his hand on the wall to steady himself. 

When Harry was nearly finished, he put a hand on Draco’s shoulder and gently pushed. Draco pulled back, intent on pulling away completely and then changing his mind and bobbing back down. Harry whined and returned his hand to the wall. He started moaning, “Draco, seriously I’m gonna- Draco. Fuck.” A second later he came in Draco’s mouth. The thoughts going through Draco’s head when he made the decision were, “Surely it’s not as bad as I remember,” and, “This will be a great idea,” both of these were incorrect. Draco did everything in his power not to choke and it left him rather gracelessly coughing and spluttering. 

By the time he had recovered enough to breath, Harry was kneeling beside him and had already vanished everything that wasn’t still in Draco’s mouth or running down his chin. Harry wiped the last little bits from Draco’s chin. 

“That was such a bad idea,” Draco admitted, very aware of how hoarse his voice sounded. 

“Yeah, but it was kind of hot,” Harry laughed. “I’m a little surprised though, I never took you for a spitter.” Draco gave him a look of clear confusion. In his opinion there weren’t any other options. “The swallowers say spitters are quitters,” Harry explained. Draco rolled his eyes and punched Harry in the shoulder. Harry responded by kissing him deeply. 

The two moved about until Draco was sitting with his back against the wall and his legs open with Harry in-between them. Harry’s mouth returned to the spot where he seemed extremely determined to put a hickey while his hands worked at undoing Draco’s pants. Once his pants where undone Harry’s hands were on his dick. The feeling of his hands, the warmth and slight roughness, was still so overwhelmingly fantastic that Draco felt a wash of warm tingles race over his skin. His lips were so fierce against his skin, nipping and sucking, his tongue shooting out occasionally and massaging against his collarbone. Draco couldn’t hold back his moans and shouts. He buried his hands in Harry’s hair and let himself become overwhelmed. His hips started bucking up and he was vaguely aware that Harry had stopped focusing on Draco’s hickey and was instead speaking. He wasn’t listening to what Harry was saying, he just felt the way Harry’s breath brushed intimately against his skin and listened to the slight husk that was reserved just for moments like this. 

Draco put his hand over his mouth in some attempt to muffle what he knew would be a shout when he came. The resulting sound was a muffled high cry that sounded like a whine. He supposed there was some whining in amongst all the noise he made, so it didn’t particularly matter. 

Harry was looking at him with mild uncertainty. When Draco had calmed down and removed his hand Harry asked, “Did you hear a word I said?” Draco shook his head. “Oh thank god,” Harry replied and laughed with clear relief. 

“Why, what did you say?” Draco asked. Harry refused to answer that question however, no matter how much prodding Draco did. 

The rest of the wedding service was uneventful. Of course, plenty of girls kept flirting with Draco and Harry and, while none of them seemed to really realise the disinterest they both felt, they did seem to find people more willing to flirt back as the night went on. There were also a few cases of parents, fathers mostly, insisting that Draco talk to their daughters which always ended in the same awkwardness. Edie did hang out with them for a short time until they managed to be half decent wingmen and get her a girl to talk to.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, does everyone remember that fic I was updating like (bi)weekly (I don't actually remember) and then abandoned for months bc I sure do.

The week after the wedding was a lot like the week before in terms of Harry’s work schedule. It quickly became apparent that people were attempting to get late wedding gifts and didn’t consider a tea set or a toaster adequate. Eventually the flourish of criminal activity settled back into its usual ebb. It left Harry with very little time to talk to Draco outside of letters. On the positive side, he got to spend plenty of time with Ron. For the most part, Harry tried not to talk about Draco since Ron always got this look on his face like he had just eaten something bad. Harry tried not to mind, Ron was trying to be supportive it was just hard for him when Harry was dating, in Ron’s words, “The enemy.”

Hermione was a little better at accepting Harry’s new relationship with Draco. She also kept insisting that Ron would be too if he could get over the past and look to the future. Ron disagreed. Loudly. He tried to keep the insults at a minimum, Harry could tell because of the way he would stop himself before saying something and then say something probably less awful, but it didn’t stop a few from slipping past. He apologised for them and he seemed sincere, but he didn’t necessarily take them all back. At least he made it very clear that he wasn’t angry, just exceptionally concerned for Harry’s safety. A concern that presented itself through rage. 

Hermione decided, rather enthusiastically and to Ron’s utter horror, that the solution was for Ron to become friends with Draco. The idea was rather entertaining to Harry, especially considering Ron’s repulsion at the idea. Hermione thought it best to slowly ease Draco and Ron into each other’s company, starting with the four of them meeting up for drinks the following day. Harry would bring Draco, Hermione would drag Ron in by the ear if she had to, and they’d meet at the pub. Harry returned to his apartment surprisingly chipper, half due to Hermione’s plan and half because he was going home early. 

Harry opened his door and was absolutely delighted to find his boyfriend sitting up on his bed reading. Draco looked up clearly surprised to see Harry home early, but seemingly equally pleased. Harry gave Draco a kiss hello before flopping onto the bed, his torso falling over one side and his legs hanging over Draco. 

“I have news,” Harry informed. Draco raised an eyebrow expectantly, his hand settling into a repetitive pattern on Harry’s leg. He rolled his eyes a little when Harry didn’t respond. 

“What news?” Draco asked. 

“You’re gonna love it,” Harry said, not answering the question. His eyes were directed to the ceiling. 

Draco waited for another beat, but Harry was still not speaking or looking at him. He did have a stupid little grin on his face though. The kind of grin that suggested this was a game to him. Draco considered for a second if this was the kind of game he wanted to play, but honestly, he didn’t really know what kind of game it was. He forced his legs out from under Harry’s so that he could lean over and press a small kiss to Harry’s stupid grinning lips. “What news?” He repeated. 

“Good news,” Harry replied. His eyes flicking over Draco’s face. 

“Do you want to be more specific?” 

Harry took a long, contemplative breath in before replying in a huff, “Do I?” 

“Yes,” Draco replied trying to make his voice as flat as possible despite the idiotic desire to grin. 

“Really?” Harry asked, “I think I might need some incentive.” Draco let his eyes roll and pressed another kiss to Harry’s lips. He let his tongue briefly flick across Harry’s bottom lip before pulling away. Harry hummed and a slightly different stupid grin formed on his face. “That’s a pretty good incentive,” Draco was about to kiss him again when Harry continued, “But not what I actually meant.” 

Draco, assuming he knew exactly what Harry actually meant, tried to control his desire to roll his eyes again. “You know, I’m sure we can build up to that.” 

Harry furrowed his brow and asked, “What?” 

“What?” Draco replied, suddenly aware that wasn’t what Harry was talking about. 

Harry laughed, seeming to realise what Draco had thought he was talking about. “Well, I mean,” He shrugged, “Yeah, but that wasn’t what I actually meant.” Draco felt his face heating up rather quickly. “I actually just need you to promise not to get mad.” 

The embarrassment Draco had just been feeling to a sudden backseat to his suspicion. “I thought you said I’d love this news.” 

“Oh,” Harry replied, “Yeah, totally.” 

“Then why would I get mad?” Draco asked, sitting back up away from Harry and leaning against the pillows. 

Harry sat up on his elbows. “Well, because it involves you socialising-” 

“Gross,” Draco interrupted. 

“With Ron,” Harry finished. 

Draco refrained from cringing to the best of his ability. “Will Granger be there?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good, I’m pretty sure she’s the only thing keeping him from decking me at any given moment.” 

Harry seemed mildly offended, “I think I help with that too.” 

“No, you’re literally the key motivator of him wanting to beat me to death.” Draco replied flatly. 

Harry let himself flop back onto the bed, “Well,” Draco raised an eyebrow, which Harry spotted. “I think the real key motivator would actually be you.” The other eyebrow raised. “Well, I mean, he only wants to hit you because he thinks you were a dick in school.” 

Draco’s eyebrows settled, “Sure, but he would only want to hit me, not kill me, if it weren’t for the fact that I’m dating you.” 

“He doesn’t want to kill you,” Harry insisted. 

“You haven’t been on the receiving end of one of those glares,” Draco pointed out. Harry just kind of nodded in response to this. “Anyway, why am I socializing with Weasley?” 

“Hermione decided that it would be a good idea to go get drinks tonight,” Harry replied. 

Draco took a second to think. “You want me to go drinking with the guy who wants to kill me?” 

“No,” Harry laughed, “I want you to go drinking with me, Hermione and Ron so you and Ron can stop hating each other so much.” 

“How do you expect that to work?” 

Harry shrugged, “Seemed to work for us.” 

Draco felt a little grin tug up his lips, “Are you suggesting Weasley wants to suck my dick?” 

“Not as much as I’m suggesting you want to suck his,” Harry retorted with the exact grin on his lips that Draco was holding back. 

“You know,” Draco replied, “He’s not really my type.” 

Harry sat back up, “Are you sure?” Draco was a little taken aback by this. “I mean, messy hair, pureblood, thought you were a dick in school,” He pressed a kiss to Draco’s lips, “Sounds like your type.” 

Draco grinned, “That’s not what I look for though.” 

“Oh?” 

Draco returned Harry’s chaste kiss, “It’s got a lot more to do with the fact that you’re an overconfident, slightly annoying, very idiotic asshole.” Harry let out another little laugh before kissing Draco again. 

“So, are you going to come tonight?” Harry asked. 

“I suspect you’ll make me,” Draco replied with a bit of a sigh. 

An impish grin spread over Harry’s face, “I meant come out drinking.” 

Draco furrowed his brow in confusion, “So did I.” 

Harry snickered a little. “Oh,” He shrugged and admitted, “I thought we were talking about sex.” 

Draco paused. “It still applies.” He tried not to grin when he said it but there was no denying the little smirk. 

The bar chosen for the little get together was half in the muggle world, half in the wizarding world. There was a muggle drinks menu, which muggles could not only see but order from, and a wizard’s menu, which muggles couldn’t see. Hermione had bothered to explain how it worked and Draco seemed to actually care and listen, but Ron and Harry were far too happy to tune out and nod along. The only thing Harry got out of it was that it was the same kind of magic that made Hogwarts look like an abandoned building. 

Regardless, the combined muggle/wizard environment attracted a very particular crowd. Most notably, younger wizards who didn’t have the prejudice against muggles that older (mostly pureblood) wizards tended to harbour. There also seemed to be a few younger wizards talking with muggles, although it could be a little hard to tell since younger wizards usually just wore jeans instead of robes, but the drinks were a good indicator. 

Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron were sitting in very clear pairs opposite each other despite being at a circle table. Harry and Hermione had both clearly made some sort of attempt to disperse the obvious coupling and make it seem more like a group. It had worked about as well as could be expected with Ron glaring down Draco. 

They had been sitting for exactly twenty seconds when Hermione tried to start a conversation. It went better than expected. Harry and Hermione conversed rather freely and Draco even made a statement. It was, however, this statement that started Ron’s scoffing. Draco hadn’t even said anything (particularly) pretentious or opinionated. This scoffing quickly discouraged conversation. 

Now sitting in an awkward silence, Harry quickly tried to find something to do. “I’m gonna get drinks, what do you want? Beer?” He pointed to Ron who nodded, “Beer?” He asked Hermione who shook her head, “Beer?” He asked Draco, who started to say he didn’t drink beer only for Harry to leave the table saying, “Great, I’ll get beer.” Draco looked to Hermione who just shook her head and shrugged. 

“What, you don’t drink beer?” Ron asked, clearly meaning to mock. Hermione gave him a look that suggested he should knock it off. 

“I’ve met _people_ with a higher alcohol volume than most beer,” Draco replied flatly. Hermione, clearly not expecting that kind of response, did a spit take. Ron seemed taken aback but wasn’t drunk enough to think it was funny. 

“So, you think you’re too good for beer then?” Ron asked, one beat too late. 

“I think I’m too sober for beer,” Draco responded. 

“Same,” Hermione replied, half in a huff, half in a giggle. Ron gave her a look of utter betrayal. “What?” 

Ron leaned over and started an angry hushed conversation. Hermione looked almost twice as pissed off as Ron, but none of it seemed to be directed at Draco. He tried not to listen, but a few of Hermione’s hissed words still made their way to his ears; “For Harry,” and “Don’t be a dick,” being the most prevalent and repeated. They were interrupted by Harry’s return. 

“So, what are we all talking about?” Harry asked, placing a beer in front of each of them. 

“Your boyfriend doesn’t drink beer,” Ron said. 

Harry shrugged, “Neither does Hermione.” He took the drink from in front of Draco and took a sip. A grin tugged up at Ron’s lips while Hermione just rolled her eyes. 

“Come on, Draco,” Hermione said in a tone presenting her frustration with Harry, “Let’s go get something to drink.” 

Draco followed her with a small, sympathetic smile. Ron called out, “Yeah you two girls go get some drinks,” and Draco nearly felt the slap Hermione delivered with her eyes in return. Ron sank in his chair a little, but otherwise didn’t respond. 

On the way to the bar, Draco somehow plucked up the courage to say, “Thank you.” 

“For what?” Hermione asked. Draco flushed red. The concept of saying thank you wasn’t beyond him, but the application of it in personal situations was, honestly, difficult. He elected to simply not answer, finding the words a little too embarrassing to say. She seemed to understand somehow and offered him a smile. “It’s no problem,” She said, “Ron’s just being a dick.” 

“Because he hates me,” Draco elaborated, “Which is debatably fair.” 

Hermione paused. “Debatably?” 

Draco snorted a small laugh, “Okay, maybe not debatably.” 

Back at the table, Ron had turned to Harry almost the second Draco and Hermione were out of earshot. “Why the fuck am I here?” 

Harry put down the glass he had been drinking from, “You picked the bar, mate.” 

“That’s not what I fucking mean and you know it, you little prick.” He was practically hissing. 

“Why are you so mad?” Harry asked. 

“Because I’m in the presence of Draco fucking Malfoy. Why aren’t you as pissed off as me?” 

“Because I’m fucking Draco fucking Malfoy,” Harry replied. 

“God, don’t remind me,” Ron hissed. He made a face like he was going to be sick. “You could’ve had anyone, and I mean bloody _anyone_ and you picked Draco fucking Malfoy. You could’ve had one of my brothers if you wanted. You could’ve had fuckin’ Ginny and she turned out to be a damn lesbian!” 

“She’s not a lesbian,” Harry corrected, “She’s just currently dating a woman.” 

“Whatever, don’t change the subject you wanker. The point is, you could’ve picked someone who wasn’t a dick but you didn’t.” 

Harry took a sip from his beer and dwelled on the statement for a second. “Yep,” He finally said. “That pretty much sums it up.” 

Ron punched him in the shoulder. “I’m asking you _why_ you stupid bastard!” 

Harry couldn’t help laughing a little even if his shoulder did hurt a bit. He looked over to where Draco and Hermione were before answering Ron’s question with, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he was one of the few people who found out who I was and still determined how he felt about me based on my actions, with you and Hermione being two of the other few people.” Ron gave him a look that strongly suggested that had been a much more emotional answer than expected and he quickly added, “Or Maybe it’s because he has the best ass I’ve ever seen.” Ron promptly punched him, just in time for Draco and Hermione to come back to the table. 

“What’re you two beating each other up over now?” Hermione asked. 

“We aren’t beating each other up,” Ron replied, “That suggests that Harry’s man enough to hit back.” Harry hit him back immediately. They had a brief moment that looked like it might become a brawl before Hermione broke them up, reminding them that they were at a pub and they didn’t want to be kicked out. 

For the next little while, Harry, Hermione and Draco chatted. Ron sat back with a glare, but there was less fire in it than previously. It also wasn’t as steady, occasionally disappearing even if it was just for a moment. Ron was drinking quickly and he ended up doing most of the drink runs since he was usually the first to finish and the least involved in the conversation. He was kind enough to get Draco’s drinks, but he wasn’t about to put them directly in front of Draco. He generally placed them in the middle toward Draco’s general direction. Still, it was nicer than he could’ve been. Hermione seemed to notice while Harry sat there oblivious to it and Draco seemed to tentative to look at Ron for too long. 

“Harry,” Hermione chirped, “Come to the bathroom with me.” It wasn’t even remotely a question. 

Draco, catching onto what she was doing immediately, gave her a look of mild distress and just a hint of betrayal. She returned to him a look that strongly suggested that it was fine and that he should trust her. To some extent he did, it was Weasley he was concerned with. Harry, however, didn’t catch on to any of the silent conversation occurring and shot Hermione a very confused look. “What?” He asked. 

Clearly kind of annoyed, she repeated, “Come to the bathroom with me.” 

Harry glanced to Draco then to Ron before looking back up at Hermione. “Why?” 

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Ron replied, “If you want a girl to go to the bathroom with you, take Draco.” 

Draco had, apparently, had just enough to loosen his tongue. “That’s funny Weasley,” He replied in a deadpan tone. 

“Harry,” Hermione repeated herself again, giving him slightly too obvious head gestures. He just raised his hands in that ‘I don’t know.’ Rolling her eyes, she finally settled on the excuse, “I need you to hold my hair while I puke.” 

“Ew,” Harry replied, but he was still getting up. “We’ll be right back, don’t kill each other.” 

“Isn’t me killing him you need to worry about,” Ron replied. 

Draco cringed a little, “Isn’t it, Weasley.” 

“Whatever, just don’t fucking do it,” Harry replied. He put an arm around Hermione and said gently, “Come on, Hermione,” Then softer, “I didn’t think you were that much of a light weight.” 

Draco put his elbows on the table and rubbed his face. “I’m dating an imbecile.” 

“Why, because you think I’m actually going to try anything with you?” Ron replied. “You just sit there and shut up and nothing’s gonna happen to you.” 

Draco took his hands off his face and scrunched his eyebrows. “Merlin’s beard, you actually think Granger needs to puke, don’t you?” 

“You saying she’s a liar?” Ron looked way to offended in Draco’s opinion. 

“Little white lies are the building blocks of peace, but yeah she isn’t puking right now, she’s probably telling Harry that she wanted us to sit here by ourselves so she could see what happens.” 

“Why would she do that?” Ron asked. 

“Well,” Draco replied, “Considering she knows what happens were she and I are left together,” Ron gave him a very suspicious look and he quickly added, “That being absolutely nothing, and we all know what happens when Harry and I are left together,” Ron’s nose twitched in a snarl, “So I’m guessing she just wants to see what happens when you and I are left together.” 

“And what do you think is going to happen when you and I are left together?” 

“If I’m lucky,” Draco replied, bringing the glass he was drinking from to his lips, “Nothing.” 

The two sat in silence for about a minute after that until Harry and Hermione came back. Ron asked if she was feeling better and she lied and said yes. Harry sat down and Draco could feel a hand resting on his thigh. “I see you two didn’t kill each other,” Harry seemed weirdly proud. 

“Thought about it,” Ron replied, and by God, did Draco finally see Ron Weasley smile? Yes, in fact he did. Ron was smiling. He was joking and he was smiling and Draco was there. It was so bizarre. 

Without any thought behind the words, Draco asked, “Why do you hate me so much?” Immediately he saw the drop of Ron’s smile and added, “Never mind, stupid question.” He took a big gulp of his drink, hoping that it would somehow hide his words. 

“You wanna know why I hate you?” Ron asked. 

Draco winced and spoke through a burnt throat, “Not particularly, no.” 

“I’ll tell you why I fucking hate you,” Ron replied. Hermione and Harry both made an attempt at stopping him but Ron was too annoyed to hear them apparently. “Every day we spent at Hogwarts is why I hate you.” 

“Fair enough,” Draco replied. 

“You bullied us,” Ron snarled, “You bullied Neville. You probably bullied people I don’t remember the name of.” 

“Oh definitely,” Draco muttered. 

“You called Hermione a you know what and you joined the cult that wants my best friend dead.” There were tears brimming in Ron’s eyes, but he didn’t seem to care. “And to top it all off, you just have a punchable fucking face.” 

There was silence. People around them had moved away after overhearing Ron’s rage filled rant and it left the four of them in a heavy quiet that sat around their shoulders. The hand on Draco’s thigh was tense to the point that it nearly hurt. Hermione and Harry were both staring at Ron, but Draco could only look at his glass. 

Draco broke this quiet with a soft clearing of his throat. “Yeah,” He whispered, “I did all of that and I’m sorry.” He glanced up and he saw a flash of horror on Ron’s face. He knew why. The tears of rage in Ron’s eyes were mirrored with regret in Draco’s. The horror was only a flash though, because Ron was still pissed as hell. “Except for my face, I’m not apologising for that. But I’ve changed since then.” 

“Really,” Ron replied. He didn’t seem to believe Draco. “You’ve changed?” 

“I’ve grown up,” Draco specified. 

“Really?” Ron repeated. “Grown up how?” 

“I stopped taking joy in other people’s misfortune, for a start.” 

“You say that,” Ron replied, “You can say that you’ve grown, that you’ve changed or whatever, but you’ve still got that same punchable fucking face that makes me think that you haven’t. How can you sit there and say you’ve changed and still have that exact same face all the time?” 

Draco raised his eyebrows. Ron wasn’t making a lot of sense. Draco’s face wouldn’t magically change just because he changed personally. Was Ron talking about a particular expression he had on his face? Honestly, he had just enough of a buzz to not care. He replied, “If my face is so fucking punchable then just punch me already.” 

“No,” Harry quickly replied before Ron could even fully register what Draco had said. 

Draco thought for a second. “Yes,” He said, “Maybe it’ll get it out of your system.” 

Ron looked him over. “You can’t be serious.” 

“He’s not,” Hermione replied. “You’re not are you?” She asked more quietly. “He’s not,” Harry answered. 

“I am,” Draco said. 

There was a pause. Ron shrugged. “Sure.” He drained the rest of his glass and Draco did the same. Ron stood and Draco went to do the same, feeling the hand on his thigh grip him. He looked to see Harry shaking his head, but stood anyway. He was expecting them to at least take this outside, but Ron swung his fist there and then. 

Ron’s fist hit Draco’s jaw in a surprisingly strong uppercut. Draco’s vision nearly cut out completely, but he managed to stay on his feet. This was probably thanks to Harry’s hand catching him at the small of his back and steadying him. The bartender was not happy and was shouting that they needed to go, but Draco put up his hands and said, “That was my fault, sorry, I gave him a bit of a shock. Purely self-defence, won’t happen again.” The bartender looked ready to keep up the argument, but glanced down to see Harry Potter and seemed to think better of it. 

“Right,” The bartender said, “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” 

Draco was about to assure him that it wouldn’t when he felt a heavy arm flop over his shoulders and pull him in. He glanced over, expecting Harry, and found himself being half hugged by Ron who was calling out, “Don’t worry mate, won’t happen again.” This seemed to convince the bartender more than Draco did and he turned away. Draco, naturally, expected for the arm to drop away. It didn’t. Ron kept Draco under his arm for a second, giving him a slight squeeze and a bit of a shake. “That felt fucking fantastic, I’m not gonna lie.” Draco gave him a little grin and he continued, “You know, I think I’m starting to believe you; think maybe you have changed. If just a bit,” He patted him on the shoulder, “But it might be just enough.” He let his arm drop and walked off toward the bar while Draco returned to his seat. 

Hermione was giving Draco a look that seemed half proud and half annoyed at his actions. Harry looked half annoyed and half concerned. Harry reached out to touch his jaw and he gently swatted the hand away. There was a low throbbing that was painful enough without Harry’s fingers prodding him. He was pretty happy that he was drunk, but it was going to hurt like hell in the morning. 

After about a minute, Ron placed a glass directly in front of Draco. He almost sculled the whole thing in the instance, but thought he better of it. He still took a large gulp, but he didn’t drain the glass. Ron returned to his seat and Hermione immediately started on her scolding. 

“I can’t believe you actually punched him,” She snapped. 

Ron pointed to Draco, “He told me to.” 

“I know he did, that’s not a good enough reason to do it!” 

Draco smiled softly and said, “It’s fine, really.” 

“No, it’s not fine,” Hermione replied. 

Draco shrugged, “He’s not the first person here to hit me.” Hermione’s face flushed red. Ron was practically crying with laughter while Harry sat there snickering. 

“That was a slap,” Hermione said defensively, “And totally different.” 

“It was fucking not,” Ron cried. “You punched him square in the fucking nose.” 

“Wait,” Harry said, “I thought it was just a slap.” 

“No way man,” Ron replied, “She walks up to him calling him all sorts of shit and then punches him in the face. Then she turns to us and said it felt good.” 

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head, “The fuck you on? She walked up to him, crying her eyes out, slapped him and then you had to hold her back before she beat him up and got in trouble.” 

“No,” Ron cried, “It was right when Buckbeak was about to get his head cut off.” 

“It was not,” Harry’s face was scrunching up into a look Draco had become rather familiar with as a teen. It was partly confused how the other was thinking and mostly annoyed they were thinking it. “It was just after class finished.” The two continued their bickering until Hermione interjected saying that it didn’t matter which one happened, only for herself and Draco to be dragged into the conversation. “You two were there and very directly involved,” He said. 

“That’s one way to put it,” Draco interrupted. 

“Right,” Harry said with a grin, “So what happened?” 

Draco looked to Hermione at the same time that Hermione looked to Draco. Draco started shaking his head and pretty soon Hermione joined him. 

“I don’t remember,” She said, “But I intended to slap him.” 

“Well I remember it feeling like a punch, but maybe not,” Draco said with a shrug. The two glanced at each other, then back to the two boys who looked a little defeated. 

“Seriously?” Harry asked, “Neither of you remember?” 

“I remember that it happened,” Hermione replied. 

“Just can’t recall the details,” Draco finished. 

“Maybe I should jog your memory,” Harry offered and Draco felt a hand creeping over his thigh. Very high on his thigh. 

Before he could even think to push Harry’s hand back down, Ron cleared his throat. “No, nope, I just started liking him enough to let him drink with us; not enough for you to be doing,” He gestured at Harry, apparently lost for words, “ _That_ while I’m anywhere near you.” 

Harry pouted just a bit and asked, “Are you talking about flirting or,” He stopped and gave a weird hand gesture that Ron clearly didn’t understand. 

After a few seconds of asking Harry what that weird gesture was meant to be Ron finally clarified. “You know what, no, I don’t care what this,” He did the gesture, “Means, no flirting in my fucking presence.” 

“You had the same rule with Ginny,” Harry reminisced. 

“Yes,” Ron replied, “Yes exactly, all the rules that applied when you were dating Ginny apply right now with,” He gestured toward Draco, “ _This_.” 

Draco gave Ron a bit of a ‘what the fuck’ look and said, “My names Draco.” 

“We are not there yet, Malfoy,” Ron replied. 

“Fair enough,” Draco muttered taking another sip of his drink. 

“So, Ginny rules?” Harry asked. 

“Yes, this is exactly like Ginny,” Ron answered. He immediately added, “No it is not, but the same fucking rules do apply.” 

“Ginny Rules,” Harry said with a shrug. 

“Yes, Ginny Rules,” Ron replied. 

“Ginny does rule,” Hermione added. Draco took a breath to say something and instead opted to just shake his head and laugh. Harry agreed and Ron made a comment about how much Ginny would have loved to have been there for that moment. 

“Okay, okay,” Harry said when they’d all settled down a little, “In all seriousness though, I don’t remember the Ginny Rules.” 

“I mean,” Ron shrugged, “Originally the rule was “If you wouldn’t want to see someone do it to Draco don’t do it to her around me,” so the new rule would be, “If you wouldn’t want to see someone do it with Draco don’t fucking do it around me.”” 

“I love how you’ve added exactly one word to the rules, Ron. It really shows growth,” Hermione added. 

Harry was agreeing with the terms just as something was clicking for Draco. “Hold on,” He said, “Hold on.” 

“You got a problem with the rules Malfoy?” Ron asked. 

“Not exactly,” Draco answered. “But why was part of the original rule?” Ron and Hermione let out a laugh while Harry tried to shut them up. The next hour was filled with stories about Harry’s pining for Draco. The stories ranged in embarrassment, some of them being simple little things like absent minded staring from across the room when he was bored in class and some of it being Harry talking in his sleep about Draco or that time Ron woke up and found Harry sitting in bed with the marauders’ map watching the little dot with Draco’s name in the middle of the night. 

“You watched me sleep?” Draco asked with his eyebrows raised. There was, at this point, a slur to everyone’s voice. Especially Ron, who was had also gotten very loud. 

“No,” A very red faced Harry replied, “Not exactly.” He wouldn’t look directly at Draco. “Although, to be fair you were doing an awful lot of pacing for someone who was meant to be asleep.” 

“Anyway,” Ron said before the conversation could get into sixth year and what exactly Draco was doing. Draco was grateful for that. “I think I’ve heard enough about Harry, I wanna hear about you.” He was pointing to Draco. 

“Um,” Draco glanced to Hermione, hoping she had answers, “What?” 

“I wanna hear the embarrassing things you did when you were pining for Harry,” Ron clarified. Draco was a lot less grateful for that. 

Draco fought the blush rising in his cheeks, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Fine,” Hermione replied with a shrug, “I’ll just call some of the Gryffindor girls who can call some of the Hufflepuff girls to call the Slytherin girls to call Crabbe and Goyle who, I think, would be stupid enough to tell us all the embarrassing stories if they thought you had agreed to it.” 

“Alternatively?” Draco asked. 

“You tell us one of the more embarrassing things, not necessarily the most embarrassing but it has to be fairly embarrassing, and I won’t make the calls.” Hermione said with another small shrug and a sip of her drink. “Also, we can’t have already known about it,” She added. 

Draco considered her threat for a moment. It sounded like it was a stretch and yet somehow there was something believable about it. Or maybe he just thought there was because his brain was foggy and he was feeling warmer. 

“Fine,” He said with a sigh. He supposed it was fair, considering how much he had heard about Harry. He took a second to figure out what he was going to say and felt his cheeks flushing the entire time. “Right, okay,” He stopped and put his hands in face, muttering a soft, “Fuck,” before continuing. “Right so, do- shit- do you remember,” He had to keep stopping as pure embarrassment was tightening his throat and making it hard to speak, “You remember in second year when we had that stupid fucking Valentine’s Day thing?” They all nodded. “Right, uh, remember how there were like cards and stuff you could get?” 

“And those fucking singing dwarves,” Harry groaned. Oh, he remembered. He remembered that shit well. “Are you saying you sent a card?” 

“Look, yes, I did send an anonymous card,” Draco admitted, “But that’s-” He shrugged, “Normal I guess.” 

“Wait,” Hermione said with a huge smile plastered on her face. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me…” She trailed off, clearly seeing on Draco’s face that she was, in fact, right. 

“What?” Ron asked. “What?” He repeated when she didn’t respond. 

Hermione shook her head, “Oh no, Draco’s telling the story.” She sat back, holding her drink in her hand and crossed her legs. Waiting patiently, as she already knew what was coming. 

“Thanks,” Draco said, making sure every syllable dripped in sarcasm. “Right, I’m sure you remember that one Ginny sent you,” He said to Harry. 

“All too fucking well,” Harry replied, rubbing his temples as if the pure thought of getting sat on and sung to a dwarf in the middle of the school was giving him a headache. 

“Right, well,” Draco said, clearing his throat and looking straight down at his glass, “I know Ginny never denied getting you that, at least not then and there, but she didn’t.” Realisation hit Harry’s face. Draco glanced at him and immediately wished he could crawl into a hole in the ground. 

“Oh, Merlin,” Ron said from across the table. “Shit mate! It all makes sense now! I remember asking Ginny where she got the fucking money, but she always just denied buying it. I guess she was just a little too embarrassed to say anything when you were there,” He said, lightly punching Harry in the arm, “God she never spoke back then. It was peaceful as all hell.” He leaned back and Draco could feel his eyes despite pretending to be interested in the glass in front of him. “I can’t believe you bought him a singing dwarf.” 

“That makes two of us,” Draco replied, raising his glass. 

Harry’s clicked it gently and he said, “Make that three.” 

Ron shrugged and lifted his glass too while Hermione did the same, stating, “I can.” 

The rest of the night rolled on rather uneventfully. Finally, Harry and Draco returned home, well and truly into the am. The two of them stumbled in, giggling and trying to keep quiet. Harry kept talking about his neighbours hearing, which Draco was slowly getting used to. It was still weird, but he tried to keep quiet. 

Draco tripped and nearly fell over trying to take off his shoes, but Harry managed to catch him. The two steadied themselves and started another giggling fit. Harry told Draco to shush, but the little snorting laugh was making him snicker along. He tried another tactic, one that generally seemed to work, and kissed him. Draco let out a little surprised sound, muffled by Harry’s lips, but kissed back. 

They stumbled about a bit until Draco ended up falling back onto the bed. Along the way, they had managed to get off their jackets and Draco’s top three buttons were undone. It was pretty clear where this was going, but before Harry got down to Draco’s level to continue, he pulled out his wand. Draco eyed it curiously, wondering exactly what Harry intended to do. He stood there for a moment, seemingly thinking, then muttered, “Fuck, I can’t remember the spell.” 

“What spell?” 

“The sound muffling spell, so the neighbours don’t hear,” Harry clarified. 

Draco grabbed Harry by the shirt collar and pulled him down. “As if we’ve given a fuck before now,” He said before kissing him. He could feel Harry grinning into the kiss, but was more concerned with Harry’s warm hands running up under his shirt and getting his legs to sit around Harry’s waist when he had no coordination. It was way more difficult than it had any right to be. 

Harry seemed to notice Draco’s struggles and pulled away just enough to ask, “Do you need some help?” 

Draco rolled his eyes and felt a blush rise on his cheeks. “No,” He replied despite how flustered he clearly was. 

“Right.” Harry was using a bit more sarcasm than Draco thought was actually necessary in this situation. He stopped kissing Draco’s mouth and started on Draco’s neck and chest. Getting the buttons undone in a drunken haze was about as easy as cutting a stick of butter with a carrot. Especially since Harry was extremely tired now. There was something about getting home and taking off his shoes that had relaxed him enough for his body to think it was time to sleep. 

The first time they had sex, they were both a little drunk, so Harry expected this to be a breeze. He’d had drunk sex and it had worked. Only last time they’d had drunk sex, it was their first time together which was a rather sobering experience itself. They were also drinking wine, which meant they were just a little drunk. Now, however, they were totally smashed and it was proving to be far more trouble than it was worth to get Draco out of his damn clothes. That was honestly fine. Harry had made Draco come in his pants once, he could do it again. 

Giving up on kissing a line down Draco’s chest and stomach, Harry moved down so his knees were on the ground, pulled up Draco’s shirt enough for him to gently bite on his hips and slid his hand between his legs. Draco let out a surprised shout that quickly dwindled to a moan and Harry felt a hand bury into his hair. 

The soft gripping and tugging on his hair left Harry feeling even more distracted than he already was. He tried to make himself focus on rubbing his thumb along Draco’s dick, but found he couldn’t figure out what his mouth was supposed to be doing. Whenever he focused on kissing Draco’s stomach though, his hand movements became inconsistent. Pretty quickly he gave up on that to, lifting Draco’s legs and putting his thighs around his shoulders. 

Draco sat up on his elbows, looking flushed and confused. He started asking what Harry was doing, just in time for Harry to lick him roughly through his trousers. The question quickly fell away into a shout while the hand in Harry’s hair clenched. Harry considered this an undeniably positive reaction and did that again, getting a similar response from Draco. He put his mouth over as much of Draco’s dick as he could and started massaging him through his trousers with his tongue. 

Pretty soon a wet patch had accumulated on Draco’s crotch. Half of it tasted salty, leading Harry to the conclusion that half of it was his own saliva and half was precum. That was good, since it meant they weren’t far from getting Draco off entirely. Sadly though, Harry’s jaw was growing tired and pretty soon he’d have to stop entirely. It didn’t help that his eyes seemed ready to shut from exhaustion too. 

An idea occurred to Harry just then, something utterly outrageous and yet, it just might work. Since his mouth was already essentially around Draco’s dick, he didn’t have to do much for this to work. He relaxed his jaw and then, _softly_ , clenched his jaw; biting down on the bulge in his mouth. Draco tensed and let out a surprised shout before Harry released. 

Draco sat bolt upright, swayed a little, steadied himself, then asked, “Did you just bite me?” 

Harry pulled back, his jaw thanking him for the break. “Only a little,” He answered. “Did it hurt?” 

“No, it just-” Draco was too flushed to blush but his eyes flicked away. “It felt weird.” 

Harry grinned. “A good weird?” Draco shifted a little before nodding. “Do you want me to do it again?” Draco wouldn’t look at him, but nodded again. “What was that? I can’t hear you,” Harry teased. 

Draco smacked him lightly on top of the head. “Don’t be a dick Potter.” 

Harry leaned in a little closer so his lips were against Draco’s dick. “So, is that a yes?” 

“Of course, it’s a yes,” Draco replied. He opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off by a sharp moan as Harry repeated the biting action. 

Now licking and biting Draco through his trousers, it didn’t take long for Draco’s hips to start lifting. Harry held his hips down for the most part, but pretty soon he heard Draco putting a fist over his mouth and muffling his cries as he came. 

Draco laid there panting for a second while Harry pressed a kiss to each of his inner thighs. Then he sat up and started pulling at Harry so that he was no longer on the floor. Harry crawled up onto the bed so that he was laying over Draco and then pulled away from the kiss. 

“Draco,” Harry said. 

“Harry,” Draco replied. 

“As much as I enjoy doing this, I think I’m going to fall asleep.” 

Draco grinned a little, “Is it boring you that much?” 

Harry shook his head. “No, I’m just a tired drunk.” He blinked and for a second his eyes didn’t want to open. 

Draco got his pants and underwear off, then tried to get his shirt off and gave up before crawling into bed with Harry. Harry fell asleep almost immediately while Draco snuggled up to him, lying awake for a few minutes before dozing himself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided this gonna be modern day but they aren't 30 because *pfffft*

The next morning, Harry woke up with a pounding headache. Draco was hidden almost entirely under the blankets with little tuffs of his silvery hair sticking out. Harry tried to sit up, instantly making his pounding head one hundred percent worse, and laid back down. Draco, feeling the disturbance of the blankets, grumbled and buried himself further so now every little strand of hair was tucked away.

Harry probably would have stayed still, but dear _lord_ he needed to piss. He tried to move without causing himself more pain, but his head practically split in half when he moved. He laid still, but the need to pee was sever to the point of near pain and he didn’t want to piss the bed. He took a deep breath, winced at the ache it caused, and forced himself to get up and out of bed. 

He was practically blinded by the pain. He had been hit by all sorts of curses, fists and objects, but this hangover was true hell. Severing charm? Paper cuts. Floating Eye Curse? Creepy, but painless. Cruciatus curse? This is what it feels like. 

He managed to stumble his way to the bathroom and relieve himself without dying and then stumble back into the kitchen and get a drink of water. _much better_. His entire body practically rejoiced at the hydration. His skin was clear, his hangover was cured and his crops were growing. He took an Panadol and then grabbed another one for Draco. 

Draco did not approve of the tap turning on. Harry gathered this by Draco grunting and then letting out a low moan from the pain. Harry got another glass of water and brought it over to the bed. He sat at the edge and whispered, “Draco? Draco, do you want something to drink?” There was shifting from under the bed, then Draco’s hand came out from under the blankets with the middle finger raised. Harry placed the glass against Draco’s skin. The hand retreated back into the blankets. 

Harry tried to gently coax him out, only to hear a muffled, “Fuck off, Potter.” 

“Sleeping isn’t going to help, only getting up will,” Harry sighed. 

“Fuck off,” Draco repeated. 

“You want some Panadol?” 

This caught Draco’s attention. Not enough for him to come out from under the blankets, but enough for him to answer with something other than fuck off. Harry thought he heard, “Fuck it,” before Draco started squirming around under blankets. He was clearly sitting up, but he wasn’t coming out. A hand came from the little tent Draco had made from himself and Harry handed him the pill and water. 

Draco still wasn’t coming out, but he gave Harry back the glass. After putting it back in the kitchen, Harry crawled onto the bed. He nudged at Draco through the blanket, caressing his legs and bumping his forehead against Draco’s, until Draco gave him permission to enter the little cave. The two sat around in the dark, cuddling and speaking softly. Occasionally, they would have to let a tiny little hole appear between the sheets and the blanket so that they could breathe. The little light and cool air was oddly refreshing at times when they were practically covered in warmth and smell of each other. This lasted about an hour, it was at that time that Draco’s need to pee became too strong to sit there anymore. 

Emerging from their cave and into the cooler air of the day was vile. There wasn’t any real choice, but at least they didn’t have to go outside. Draco had put on a pair of pants despite Harry insisting that he didn’t need to. At least he chose to remove his shirt. Harry was happy to soak in the view while he was making breakfast. 

“Tell me something,” Draco asked, his bare back facing Harry who was leaning against the counter. 

“If you insult the kitchen again I’ll kick you out,” Harry warned playfully. 

Draco shot him a look over his shoulder, but continued, “What’s with those ugly trousers you’ve got?” 

Harry furrowed his brow. “What’re you talking about?” 

Draco abandoned the food for a second and went to pick up a pair of trackies that Harry had left on the floor. He picked them up the same way someone might pick up a mouldy cloth they _have_ to throw out. He dumped them on Harry and returned to cooking. 

“Do you have a problem with my trackies?” The offence in Harry’s voice was mostly false. 

“They’re ugly,” Draco replied. 

“Yep.” 

“So why did you buy them?” Draco asked. 

“They’re comfy,” Harry explained. 

“But they’re _ugly_!” 

“Comfort over style,” Harry replied. Draco whipped around so quickly he still had the pan filled with scrambled eggs in his hand. 

Draco stared at Harry in shock and horror. Harry stared back with defiance and mild confusion. “I’m breaking up with you,” Draco whispered. 

“Oh god, how will I tell Ron?” Harry deadpanned. A smile tugged up the corner of Draco’s lips and he turned back to cooking. “You know, you should try them on,” Harry suggested. 

“No,” Draco replied immediately. 

“I think they’d look good on you,” Harry replied. 

“No,” Draco repeated. 

“They’re more comfortable than they look.” 

“No.” 

Harry started to bug Draco a little. By the time he was dishing out the food, he seemed to have had enough. He snatched the trousers from Harry’s hand and stripped the pants he was wearing. 

Harry took the moment to appreciate everything he had the chance to see before Draco slipped into the trousers. Harry could have sworn there was nothing sexier. The way those pants half hung from Draco’s waist, highlighting the hips that held them up and the slight V line that dug into his faintly sculpted frame. He looked like marble. 

“These are way more comfortable then they have any right to be,” Draco grumbled. There was a bit of frustration on his face as if he was offended by them. 

"They look way better on you than they have any right to, too," Harry added. 

There was a little twitch at the corner of Draco's mouth before he said a sarcastic, "Thanks." 

The two finally got their act together and took a shower. Draco insisted it was an excuse to get out of Harry's disgusting trackies, but since he put them back on when they got out, Harry dared to think he liked them more than he was letting on. 

Since they didn't really have anything to do today, Harry pulled out his laptop making Draco raise an eyebrow. Harry made him sit on the bed and learn the basics of using the internet, which was... interesting to say the least. 

"So, you can say anything and people will read it instantly?" Draco asked. 

"Kinda," Harry replied with a shrug. "People _can_ read it instantly but that doesn't mean they necessarily will." 

"What if you say something stupid?" Draco asked. 

"Then you live with it forever. I mean there's a delete button, but it's the internet so it's there forever anyway," Harry replied, momentarily remembering Hermione screenshotting a drunk post and reposting it as soon as Harry deleted it. From memory the post said: " _I should've just dick punched Voldemort._ " 

"That's so bizarre," Draco whispered. Harry had already set up an account on about three different sites with all three open in different tabs. Draco was staring at the new post option on Facebook right now. He glanced to Harry then back to the blinking line, waiting for him to say something. He typed the letter "H" then immediately hit backspace. "I don't know what to say," He confessed to Harry. 

"Whatever you want. Ron's first post was "Titties" so really, whatever you want." 

"What if his mother saw that," Draco replied in utter horror. 

Harry shrugged, "His mum doesn't have Facebook. She probably would've hit like though." 

Draco looked back at the screen. He placed his fingers on the keys, paused for a second and then finally typed his first post: " _I'm_ " before he accidently hit ctrl and enter. He whispered a soft, "Fuck," as he realised his first (and currently only) post was "I'm". "Eloquent," Harry replied with a soft laugh. 

"Shut up, Potter," Draco replied, softly punching him the arm. Harry pulled out his phone and took a screenshot before Draco could delete it. 

Draco decided after that to lurk for a little while and leave his first post until he thought of something relevant to post. The two spent the rest of the day sitting around on Harry's bed and scrolling through the internet, occasionally showing each other something funny they found. Harry also showed Draco YouTube and Twitter before texting Hermione to remind him how to access the wizard only sites. It was surprisingly annoying to do without the enchanted USB she had given him, but it was still possible. Most of the sites were actually normal websites with certain URLs that were muggles couldn't access. 

It was starting to get dark when Draco realised they hadn't eaten since breakfast. He started poking at Harry until he at least agreed on something to eat. Draco got up and started dinner, he wasn't overly good at cooking and didn't know a lot but he was defiantly getting better since he started spending so much time at Harry's. Eventually Harry got up and joined him, which was probably for the best. 

That night they laid in bed, neither one really having the energy to do anything but lay there and talk. They both buried themselves under the blankets and spoke in hushed voices as if there were someone else in the room who they didn't want to hear their conversation. They shared their warmth, Harry's arm was wrapped around Draco and Draco's hand was gently running up and down Harry's arm. 

"So, there I am with a cup of cranberry juice, pretending its blood," Draco snickered in that little snorting laugh, "And Pansy laying on the ground and she starts crying out, "You've killed me, you've killed me," and then I realised she was mocking me after that whole hippogriff incident, so I poured the juice on her. It stained her shirt pretty badly, but she tried to get it out with a spell she got off a friend of friend, and it got the stain out but it turned her shirt black. For the next couple of weeks, she'd wear a black shirt every couple of days until her parents sent her a new one." Harry let out a laugh, still imagining Draco holding up a goblet, dramatically proclaiming something about it being the blood of his enemies. Draco stopped his snorting laugh long enough to gently push at Harry, "Alright, Potter, your turn." 

"Did I ever tell you about how Ron's rat turned out to be an Animagus?" 

Harry could hear the smirk in Draco's voice when he said, "No, but something tells me this is going to be another one of your hero stories." 

Harry laughed a little, "Not exactly, since I didn't really do anything." 

"You say that about all your hero stories," Draco replied. Harry could feel him rolling his eyes in the dark. 

"It's true though," Harry replied. 

"Mostly," Draco replied, "But still, hero stories are great but didn't you guys ever do anything normal?" 

Harry laughed, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise pretending to be a vampire was normal." 

Draco lightly whacked his arm in the dark, "It is actually, we were just mucking around, like normal kids." 

"Alright, alright, there was a few things we did," Harry replied, taking Draco's hand in his own, mostly to get him to stop whacking him. He gave Draco's hand a kiss before speaking, "Okay, so, me, Ron, and Hermione were kinda just hanging out and, well, no one had tried to kill us in a solid while, so, we decided to go do something. Hermione was kinda against it at first because we could get expelled, but Ron convinced her that if we got caught we'd make it seem like we forced her to come or peer pressured her or something. It only really worked because she wanted to come anyway, but that's not the point. So, we gear up, grab the invisibility cloak and go down to the kitchen. We grab some berries and then go out to the forbidden forest. It was honestly such a stupid idea, but we wanted to find a unicorn." 

"Did you?" Draco asked. 

"No, but Ron did convince us to climb one of the trees to get a higher vantage point. We're up so high I can see the castle and Hermione comments that she can barely see anything on the ground anyway, so we should probably climb down a bit. Ron disagrees and thinks we should go higher, but Hermione and I convinced him we were up high enough. So, we're all sitting in this tree trying to see a unicorn when this little spider runs up to us and over Ron's hand. He jumps up and starts screaming, apparently forgetting that we're in a tree. He starts falling and I reach out and try to grab him, slowing his fall but I end up going down with him, so Hermione grabs me and now we're all falling out of this tree. Ron manages to grab his wand and cast a spell so we slow down just before we hit the ground, but it barely worked. We still end up in a very painful pile at the bottom of this tree with a freaked-out spider sprinting away from us. Turns out the spell was meant to stop us completely and then gently place us on the floor. It didn't work." 

Draco seemed to be satisfied with that story. It was normal enough for him apparently. His approval also possibly had to do with the fact that Harry had just confessed that Ron was petrified of spiders. The two stayed up and talked a little longer, but as their conversation carried on, Harry started to noticed that Draco was starting to nod off. He curled in a little closer and he was pretty sure Draco fell asleep immediately. 

Waking up to the soft sun shining into the room and lighting Draco's hair in a vaguely glowly effect was one of the best ways Harry had woken up in a long time. Draco's soft breathing was highlighted by the gentle rise and fall of his sleek back. His face turned away from Harry, his head resting on his pillow, propped up by his arms as he slept on his stomach. Harry sat up and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder blade before getting out of bed. 

Returning from the bathroom, Harry found a freshly awakened Draco sitting up in bed rubbing his eyes. Harry walked over to press a kiss to Draco's head and run a hand through that beautiful golden hair. Draco reached up and ran his hands over Harry's arms and absently kissed Harry's chest. Harry couldn't deny in that moment there was a desire to start something, something warm and sweet, but a glance at his clock left him sighing through his nose. 

He gave Draco another kiss on the head before informing him that he had to go to work. Draco let out a few half-hearted protests and some of them nearly worked. When he gripped Harry's shirt before releasing it and gently massaging the spot he had crumpled while looking up and quietly asking, "Just five more minutes?" Harry was pretty sure he was about to jump back into bed. It took all of his willpower, but Harry successfully left for work. 

Harry walked into his office to find a few paper airplanes already floating around his office. He opened all of them, each one saying the same thing: _Harry get your ass down to reception ASAP_. 

Now usually this meant a very important and dangerous job. Today it meant Janice and Abbie hadn't heard anything about him and Draco for a while and wanted to be caught up. More so Janice, who didn't make mildly uncomfortable faces through the entire explanation of what had happened since they had last spoken. To be fair, Harry had needed some convincing before he started talking, but found rather quickly that he enjoyed talking about Draco without Ron looking like he was going to vomit. 

"Do you love him?" Janice asked. 

Harry tried to look totally natural while he scoffed and rolled his eyes. He scoffed again, chocked on his own spit a little and then coughed out, "What're you talking about? We've been dating for like a month." 

"I think it's more like a month and a week, but whatever, you guys've been pinning for each other for years, right?" 

"Pinning and dating are two very different things," Harry replied, his voice still not entirely recovered from the coughing fit he just endured. 

"They don't feel any different," Abbie offered. Janice and Harry both gave her a similar, judgmental look, but while Harry's lasted a brief moment, Janice's lasted a solid second. 

"Anyway," Janice continued. "How long before you'll say it?" 

Harry felt a flush on his face that he hopped they wouldn't notice. "I don't know. When I feel it, I guess." 

"Oh come on don't be a bitch about it," Janice complained. 

"I'm not being a bitch about it," Harry replied. 

"I don't think you're being a bitch about it," Abbie added. 

"See," Harry gestured to her, "Abbie doesn't think I'm being a bitch about it." 

"Oh please," Janice rolled her eyes, "You're so scared he won't say it back." 

Harry stared at her for a second. "I'm leaving." 

"No," Janice whined, "Come on, were else'll I get my famous people drama?" 

"You're muggle born? Use twitter?" 

Janice pouted, "That's totally different! Plus, this is fun. We're bonding, workplace bonding- teamwork. That's what the boss keeps promoting right? Come on!" 

"Bite me," Harry replied while returning to his office. 

"Abbie will!" He heard Janice offer as he rounded the corner. 

Harry got back to his office to find Ron sitting on his desk. Harry was worried for a second that he'd be mad about the other night, but he immediately put his arm around Harry and happily pronounced, "Guess what I've got, mate? Best fucking gig in a solid while!" He waved a piece of paper in Harry's face. 

Running around fighting crime with Ron was kind of cool. Like those cop movies that he would occasional reference since sitting through them. It was even better when Harry had Hermione on speed dial, letting her know how much paper work she'd have to do. She was less than impressed, but always offered support and encouragement and, occasionally, some much needed book smarts and cleverness. There was a thrill to it, a thrill Harry hadn't ever really gotten completely over, but he wouldn't deny it was still stressful work. 

By the time he got home, Harry had a knot in his back made of pure stress. He stood in front of his door for a second, vaguely aware of something. He wasn't even sure what it was, just... something. He shrugged and opened the door, almost immediately realising what he had almost noticed. There hadn't been any sound coming from his apartment despite Draco being home. It hadn't registered because he had lived alone for so long, but these days he could hear Draco doing something through the door, or at least _something_ but he hadn't heard anything. Opening the door explained why, Draco was on the bed with Harry's trackies around his ankles. One hand was holding his dick firmly, while with the other he was slowly sliding two fingers into his ass. This image lasted about half a second before Draco leapt from the bed and tugged his pants back on. 

There was a red flush all over Draco's face, leaving Harry wondering how much was due to embarrassment. "Hey, you're home early," Draco said awkwardly. 

Harry looked at his watch, "Yeah, I guess I am." He kicked off his shoes and hung up his jacket as normally as possible. 

"So, how was work?" Draco asked. 

"Stressful," Harry replied. He started to approach Draco. "Did you, uh, manage to entertain yourself while I was gone?" 

Draco didn't seem able to flush any brighter but he did duck his head down momentarily. "Very funny," He muttered. 

Harry was now close enough to put one hand on Draco's hip, gently pulling his in. "I've gotta admit I'm glad I'm home early," He said quietly, slipping his other hand down Draco's pants and rubbing his dick. "If I didn't I would've missed that gorgeous scene." Harry bit gently at his earlobe. He was leaning into Harry and a soft sigh was escaping his lips. 

Draco ran his hands up Harry's sides and started removing Harry's shirt. Harry complied and then quickly pushed down the trackies sitting perfectly on Draco's hips. Draco put one hand on Harry's shoulder so that when he laid down on the bed, Harry would have to come down with him. 

Harry felt a hand burying in his hair while he pressed his lips to Draco's. Harry felt teeth on his bottom lip and let out a soft grunt, putting his hand on Draco's dick and giving him a tug. Draco gasped and gave Harry's hair a soft pull. 

"Harry wait," Draco breathed. Harry froze. "We've gotta put the muffling charms back up. You broke them when you opened the door." 

Harry grumbled a little but got up and replaced the charms before coming back to bed. He didn't crawl back on top of Draco though, instead getting on his knees between Draco's legs. 

Draco sat up to say something, only to see Harry kissing his inner thigh. Then biting softly. Draco jumped slightly at the sensation. Harry kept moving up, quickly moving toward Draco's belly button. He was slowly crawling on top of Draco from the bottom up. Draco jumped at a few spots, his waist and nipples most noticeably, before Harry finally found his lips. 

Now fully on top of Draco, Harry was happy to find Draco's legs wrapping around his hips. Draco bucked his hips and Harry was suddenly very aware that he was wearing trousers and Draco wasn't. That didn't seem fair. Harry reached down to take off his pants, but Draco stopped him, quietly requesting, "Just keep them on for a minute." 

Harry agreed, although he was a little annoyed by it. They kissed for a little while longer before Draco made another request. "Get on your back for me." 

"Why?" Harry asked. 

"Just trust me," Draco replied. Harry once again complied. Now Draco crawled on top of him, sitting up over him. He looked like a god. His slender build and gorgeous, slightly vulnerable eyes staring down at him. Then he started to move, bucking his hips and essentially riding Harry through his trousers. 

Harry put his head back and let out a soft, "Oh fuck." When he looked back to Draco he saw a soft smile pulling up his lips. Harry could see the faint outlines of Draco's muscles as he moved, rocking back and forth over the cock straining in Harry's pants. All Harry could think about was this exact position, but with his dick buried in Draco. It was enough to get his hips bucking up and pretty soon came. Once again, he put his head back and muttered out a soft, "Oh fuck." 

Draco seemed awful proud of himself and crawled off. Harry gave him a kiss before getting off the bed and onto his knees. He took Draco's dick in his hand and gave him a gentle tug before putting the tip in his mouth. He spent a moment focusing on sliding his tongue around Draco's tip before finally taking the length in his mouth. The whole time he listened to Draco's moans After only about a minute, Harry's jaw was already tired, which was kind of annoying honestly. He pulled back and an idea came to mind. He sat up a bit on his legs, his hand still massaging Draco's dick in his hand. "Hey, can I try doing to you what you were doing when I came in?" Harry asked. Draco's eyes widened a little. 

"I, um," He hesitated. The pause took a moment, but finally he replied, still obviously embarrassed, "I, um, no." Harry was a little surprised, to be honest, but the shock on his face must have registered to Draco as disappointment because he started explaining himself. "I'm sorry, it's just, it's still weird when I do it and I'm just-" 

Harry pressed a small kiss to Draco's chest and made soft shushing sounds, "You don't need to be sorry, it's fine. We don't have to do anything you don't want to." 

Draco still seemed embarrassed, but it was difficult for him to dwell on it with Harry's warm mouth around his dick. The soft heat and the pressure of his lips was making Draco mewl and moan rather happily. 

Pretty soon Draco was putting his hand on Harry's shoulder and whispering, "Harry, I'm going to- Oh fuck." Harry pulled back and finished Draco off with his hand, whispering in his ear. 

When Draco was done, they vanished the evidence before Harry climbed up onto the bed. Draco happily let Harry climb back on top of him while receiving little kisses all over his chest. Harry flopped beside him and the two let out soft breathy laughs. 

"Draco," Harry sighed. 

"Yes, Harry?" Draco asked. 

"I really like you." 

"I really like you too."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait, am I back? Idk probably not.  
> Also, I was gonna do the reveal of what harry said at the wedding later, like waaaay later, but y'all've been waiting for ages anyway so, there u go its exactly what you probably thought it was.

Harry stared at the page in front of him. The report was due soon. It was due very soon. Very, very soon. Harry wasn’t writing anything. Neither was Ron, who was sitting beside him. They were in Ron’s office, staring at the page they were meant to be writing on. Harry glanced up to Ron.

“What do we say?” 

Ron looked up, mildly horrified. “Fuck, how am I meant to know?” 

Harry looked back down at the page, then pulled out his phone and called Hermione. Hermione wasn’t interested in helping them, insisting that she had done enough of their homework while they were at school. Harry put her on speaker so he and Ron could both annoy her into helping them. 

Once the reports were both written, Hermione stayed on the line to chastise them. “What’s with you two? Why can’t either of you seem to simply write out what you saw without help?” 

Ron shrugged and said, “I don’t, sometimes it’s just hard to figure out how to write stuff in the order it happened.” 

“I don’t get it,” Hermione replied. 

“I know,” Ron grumbled. 

“And what’s your excuse Harry?” She demanded. 

“I’m gay.” 

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “That’s not a good excuse,” Hermione replied. 

“Aren’t you bi?” Ron asked. 

Harry shrugged, “Yeah, probably.” 

“How is Draco?” Hermione asked. 

“He’s fine,” Harry replied. 

“Is he mad about Ron punching him?” She asked. 

“Nah, he seems to be okay.” 

“Not gonna lie,” Ron replied, “If he had’ve punched me I’d be mad.” 

The three of them sat around chatting for a while. Harry and Ron kept the conversation rolling as much as possible with Hermione constantly trying to interject with something along the lines of “Get back to work”. She eventually convinced them to hang up, but they just hung around Ron’s offie for a while. Evidentially, Hermione had figured this might happen since there was a knock on the door. When Harry opened it, Hermione was there to drag him back to his own office. Instead, they managed to convince her to stay in the office for twenty minutes and relax a little. 

It was for the best that Hermione stayed with them. The bags under her eyes were getting darker by the day. It didn’t take much prodding to find out that she had a case that was particularly difficult. She was stressing herself out about not getting it done, as she sometimes tended to do. She often said that she envied how Harry and Ron never seemed to freak out about getting things done and being good enough. Harry didn’t really deny it, after all, he was Harry Potter and at this point he had killed Voldemort so people didn’t seem to expect anything else from him. Ron, however, was quick to assure her that he once worried about it, but that he had reached a point of stress so intense that his “stress machine” broke. Hermione at least got a giggle out of that. 

Hermione looked far less grave when she laughed and immediately Ron and Harry knew what they had to do. They dragged the conversation off Hermione’s job rather gracelessly, letting it bounce around until they hit something that made her start laughing. Pretty soon, Ron was doing impressions of the ministry workers. Hermione and Harry were practically on the floor, crying with laughter. 

Suddenly, Hermione stopped laughing. Harry and Ron both stopped what they were doing and stared. She looked shocked and Ron and Harry shared a look of concern. Ron was about to ask if she was okay when she shouted, “Oh! Oh, Merlin’s _beard!_ Oh, of course!” She got up and started shouting something about figuring it out while she left. 

“What the bloody hell just happened?” Ron asked. 

Harry shrugged. He had a feeling she just cracked the case but wasn’t totally sure. 

The conversation between them had faded away rather naturally and as Harry stared at the door, he thought he should probably go. He was about to turn back to say this to Ron when Ron spoke. “I still can’t believe you’ve been fucking Malfoy for more than a month.” 

Harry turned back, wondering exactly what Ron was thinking. He was staring at the door, his eyes squinting just a little. “Yeah,” Harry replied. “I thought you were fine with it now.” 

Ron’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s bloody hard.” 

Harry nodded. “Thank you,” He said. Ron looked at him after that with a confused expression. “Thank you for trying to get along with him. And for not hitting him hard enough to bruise him.” 

Ron’s face fell completely after that. “He didn’t bruise?” Harry shook his head. Ron sniffed and rubbed his chin. “Guess I gotta hit him again.” There was a grin growing on Ron’s face and Harry couldn’t help but return the smile. 

“Please don’t, I’d never hear the end of it.” Ron took the opportunity to tease Draco once more, but in a far more good-natured way than usual for him. 

Harry was about to leave again when Ron asked, “Have you told him you love him yet?” 

Harry felt his face flush red. “No, it’s been a month.” 

“Yeah,” Ron replied, “But not really.” 

“Yeah, really! Plus, why would I tell him I love him when I don’t.” 

Ron had a grin on his face that suggested he didn’t believe Harry. He just shrugged though and said, “Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” 

“I don’t love him!” Harry said, much louder than he meant to. 

“Okay, chill out mate,” Ron laughed. “I’m just having a go at you.” Harry sat back in his chair, crossing his arms and trying to make his face go back to its usual temperature. “Though, if there was anything that’d make me think you did love him, it’d be you getting all defensive.” 

“I’m not being defensive!” He said defensively. 

“Yeah,” Ron deadpanned, “Sure, mate. I believe you.” Harry tried not to grit his teeth. “So, you haven’t told him yet.” 

“There’s nothing to tell,” Harry replied, looking over to the wall. 

Ron paused for a second, making Harry look back to him to see if he was even listening. He wished he hadn’t. There was a look of horror on Ron’s face. “Merlin’s beard…” He whispered. 

“What?” Harry asked. 

“You have told him, haven’t you?” 

Harry scoffed, “Of course not. I just told you-” 

“I know what you bloody _told me_ ,” Ron huffed in response. “But you’re a shitty liar!” 

Harry ran his hands through his hair. “I’m not a shitty liar.” 

“You are when you’re lying to me, asshole.” 

Harry let out a long sigh and buried his head in his hands. “I’m fucking crazy, aren’t I?” 

“Fucking bonkers, mate,” Ron agreed. Harry dropped his hands and looked up to Ron. 

“Thanks,” He said. 

“So, when’d you tell him?” Ron asked. Harry sank a little lower in his chair, biting his lip. Ron noticed Harry’s silence and sat back as well, fresh terror filling his features. “No,” He whispered. “You didn’t…” He was practically begging. 

“It was at the wedding,” Harry said with a wince, his eyes glued to his shoes. 

Ron’s terror fell into surprise. “Oh, I thought we were talking about like, after,” He stopped, apparently searching for a term other than sex, “You know.” Harry cleared his throat and glanced up to Ron. A guilty grin tugging up the corners of his mouth. The horror returned to Ron’s face. “What kind of wedding did you go to?” 

Harry couldn’t help laughing. “We snuck off to the bathroom.” 

Ron stared at him for a second. “You didn’t sneak off during Bill and Fleur’s wedding, did you?” 

“What?” Harry asked, “How would I swing that? I was pretending to be your cousin.” 

“Good,” Ron replied. He nodded a few times before saying, “Anyway.” He paused for another second and then asked, “How did he react?” 

“He asked me what I said, so I don’t think he heard me.” 

“Either that or he’s pretending he didn’t so that he doesn’t need to respond,” Ron suggested. Harry was initially a little offended by the proposal, then remembered it had been a month and that he needed to chill. 

“I’m gonna hope for the first one,” Harry replied, “But just in case he doesn’t know how to respond, I’m not gonna say anything else about it unless he does.” 

“Good idea,” Ron replied. They both sat there, nodding at each other. Something wasn’t settling right with this plan. 

“He’s a Slytherin,” Harry said. He started shaking his head and Ron followed suit. 

“He’s never gonna say it first.” Harry winced, hung his head back and groaned. “Look,” Ron continued, “Just give him another four months before you try saying it again.” 

Harry nodded. “Good plan.” 

They sat there for another minute. Ron seemed to know that something else was up, but Harry wasn’t saying anything. “What, Harry?” Ron finally asked. 

“I’ve got no chill, mate.” Harry could hear the panic in his voice. 

Ron looked sympathetic. “I don’t think I can help you much with that one.” Harry agreed and finally left. 

Harry was a little distracted at. Actually, he was very distracted. He was staring at his desk thinking over and over again about Draco. Specifically, he was thinking about Draco masturbating. Those slim fingers sliding into his ass, the long drawn out moans he was making… Harry could feel himself getting a little too hot under the collar, especially since he was at work and wizards could read people’s minds. (It didn’t matter how many times people (Snape) had said it wasn’t mind reading, it was so obviously mind reading.) The last thing he wanted was someone feeling a little too curious and brave, who might read his mind and immediately see Harry’s boyfriend sprawled out on the bed with his fingers in his ass. 

He tried to get his mind off it. Counting down from 100, thinking about food, that kind of thing. It wasn’t really working. Occasionally, he’d think something along the lines of, “ _This is hard_ ” and immediately some demon part of his brain went, “ _You know what else was hard? Draco’s dick. Know what’s currently hard? Yours_.” Pictures of Draco would flash into his mind every couple of minutes. 

He was considering going home early. It may have been to just chill out, or it might have been to fuck Draco. That would depend entirely on whether or not Draco was there. Hopefully yes, usually yes. He had a tendency to stay over quite a bit, despite not living there. 

Finally, he decided that he needed help. He made his way back to Ron’s office. There was a little sign on the door, “ _Back in fifteen minutes_.” Since he and Ron were partners in evil wizard hunting, as Ron often put it, Harry had a feeling Ron hadn’t left at all, but rather someone else had gone in. Harry considered, rather strongly, the possibility of payback. He could get Ron to shove whoever he had in there under the desk. The idea was tempting. 

Harry elected not to embarrass Ron. He considered calling Hermione, but then immediately imagined her likely very judgmental response and elected against it. Returning to his office, Harry pulled out his laptop and messaged Draco. He couldn’t help thinking he should get Draco a phone. Immediately phone sext came to mind. He tried to push away the idea, but it was kind of stuck. Draco wasn’t replying. Harry then came to realise that was pretty much all his resources in terms of people he was willing to discuss this with. Then he realised how goddamn stupid that was. How could he be the most famous wizard of his age and _not_ have more than 3 people he could talk to about personal shit. 

_Probably because he was the most famous wizard of his age_. 

Harry counted down the seconds before he could leave without someone getting very annoyed at him. When the time came, he was gone within a heartbeat. He rushed home, low key hoping he could find Draco in a situation similar to the day before. He kept imagining it the whole way, even though he tried not to. The last thing he needed was a visible boner in public. Regardless, the images persisted. Harry was feeling all sorts of hot and bothered as he stood in front of his apartment door. He quickly ran a hand through his hair, not that it would have tidied it at all, and opened the door. 

The bed was empty, much to Harry’s disappointment. In fact, the room was empty. Harry knocked on the bathroom door. No response. He opened it to find it was just as empty as the rest of the apartment. He felt a rush of disappointment. He was very horny and had little chance of getting laid, which left him very annoyed. He flopped down on the bed, suddenly realising it was made. 

He looked around the apartment, _really_ looked. It wasn’t just tidy-ish, it was clean. Dusted, swept, vacuumed. The lot. He wondered if Draco had cleaned it, then promptly decided he hadn’t when he realised there was still a pile of clothes on the floor. Hermione would have an absolute bitchfit. after all, The Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare (SPEW) was still very much a thing. A very unfortunately named thing, but a growing community none the less. 

There was no note from Draco saying where he’d gone and Harry couldn’t call him. Harry wasn’t able to contact Draco for the first time in about a month. It was weird. And he was still horny, which quickly made it less and less weird and much more inconvenient. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to think of something that would turn him off. It was hard. “ _You know what else was hard_?” 

“ _God Fucking Dammit_.” 

He refused to masturbate. He blatantly refused. He was a goddamn adult, not some dweeb sitting in his bed at night thinking about boobs. It was very difficult. He kept seeing Draco with his fingers buried in his ass. He could almost taste the sweat on Draco’s skin, hear his hungry moans. He imagined that time Draco had sat in his lap, his first thought being fucking Draco just like that. God, and when Draco would pull at his hair, arching his back and crying out his name. Harry pulled his pants down with a frustrated huff. 

Half an hour later and Harry felt that all too familiar wave of post masturbation depression. He sighed heavily and cleaned up. He took a shower, emerging from the bathroom naked, with a towel on his head. 

His phone was buzzing on the bedside table where he’d left it. Ron was calling him. He answered and Ron was quick to invite him out for a drink. Harry was quick to agree, figuring he could use a drink. 

The pub was cosy, not overly full, and most importantly, tended by a Potter fan. Harry could tell, because Ron was there first and didn’t have a drink yet. This only happened under three occasions; there were no drinks, he’d only just gotten there, or he’d asked the bartender if they’d be willing to give free drinks to Harry Potter and they’d said yes. The kid looked barely a day over twenty, and was quick to get them their free drinks. Harry was quick to pay him for them too, much to Ron’s horror. 

Now sitting at a table, a plate of grub and a pint of beer in front of each of them, Ron asked, “So, anything interesting happen with you and Draco?” 

Harry had a mouthful of food and tried not to spit it out when he replied, “What?” 

Ron looked very uncomfortable. “With your little love confession thing. Did you manage to get through the day without spilling your guts?” 

Harry shrugged. “He wasn’t home.” Ron nodded in understanding. “Also, you literally don’t ever need to initiate these conversations ever again.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You look like you’re about to punch something.” Harry offered. 

“Oh,” Ron replied. He was going a little red in the face. “That’s not- no.” Harry swallowed all the food in his mouth with a mouthful of beer. “That’s not because of… that, or anything.” 

“Ron,” Harry replied, putting as much sympathy in that one syllable that he could. “What’re you talking about?” 

Suddenly Ron’s demeanour changed. He let this sad little smile tug up his lips before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. His face fell and he honestly looked like he might cry. “I fucked up, Harry. Big time.” 

Harry saw thousands of possibilities run across his mind in that moment and couldn’t set a single one as genuinely likely. “What happened?” 

Ron buried his face in his hands. “I was lonely and confused and just… completely stupid.” Harry repeated the question and Ron sat back, dropping his hands and letting out a long sigh. “I fucked one of the reception girls.” 

Harry felt his face fall, asking a question he already knew the answer to. “Which one?” Ron looked desperate, like he was begging Harry not to make him say it out loud. “Ron, which one?” 

“Abbie,” He finally whispered. He pulled out his phone and showed it to Harry. It buzzed, a new message from Abby. The only visible words were, “ _Hey baby, lets ta…_ ” but Harry had a feeling it went on for a while. Especially since he could see a few more messages already there, unread and a little 10+ that meant Ron had at least 10 other notifications. How many were Abby? Probably all of them. Harry started to comment but Ron held up his finger to silence him. Harry obeyed the command. He sat and stared. The screen started to darken, then the phone screen lit up again, a soft buzzing sound indicating Ron received another message. It was Abby. “ _Come on sweet th_ …” 

“Have you told her to stop?” Harry asked stupidly. Ron’s expression implied a very strong yes. Harry decided there was only one option. He snatched the phone from Ron’s hand a little gracelessly, opened the contacts and called her. 

Ron fought him the whole way, but managed to sit down shut up once Harry said, “Hey, Abbie.” 

“Harry?” She replied, obviously expecting Ron. Made sense, since it was his phone Harry was calling from. 

“Yeah, hey, I need you to delete this number.” 

There was a pause from the other end of the line before she asked, “Why?” 

“Because,” Harry replied. He didn’t elaborate. Abbie sounded confused as she started demanding an explanation. “Because step off my fucking man, that’s why.” Harry hadn’t thought that response through. He had meant it in a ‘ _that’s my best friend and you’re crowding him_ ’ kind of way, but judging by Ron’s look of shock it hadn’t come off that way. 

There was a long pause before he heard Abbie reply, “What?” Her voice was a little high. 

Well, Harry had made his bed. Time to lie in it. “You heard me.” At the same time, he pulled out his own phone and texted Janice, _“I may have made Abbie think I’m fucking Ron. Roll with it, but just know it’s not true, okay?”_ She replied with a peace sign emoji. 

Abbie, on the other hand, was very far from the peace sign emoji. Instead, she was making a bunch of noises. Harry thought she might be chocking, but she finally said, “I thought you were dating Draco.” 

“I am,” Harry replied without missing a beat. 

“But you just called Ron your man…” 

“I sure did.” 

“Does that mean you’re cheating on Draco?” She asked. 

Harry put on his best and scariest voice, the one he used to intimidate criminals, and said “Delete this number.” 

After a second, Abbie said, “You know what, I’m glad you didn’t accept my advances. If Ron’s cheating on you with me, you obviously aren’t very good in bed.” There was a click and Harry was aware he had been hung up on. He sat there, blinking in shock for a second before returning the phone to Ron. 

“What did she say?” He asked. Harry didn’t reply at first and Ron repeated himself a little too desperately. 

Harry drained his drink and answered, “She roasted me.” He heard Ron’s phone buzz and felt a scowl force its way onto his features. “What’d she say?” 

Ron looked a little shocked, “She said, “I’ll delete your number, but when you realise I’m better in bed, message me.”” Ron practically flung himself across the table and pulled Harry into a hug. “Mate, I could marry you.” 

“Not necessary,” Harry replied with a laugh, “But you’re welcome.” 

Harry got home feeling like he was one drink off a light buzz. He was a bit sleepy and a little uncoordinated, but otherwise fine. He opened his apartment door and didn’t realise he’d been hoping Draco would be back until he found the apartment empty. There was a letter on the windowsill though. It said in perfect, curly letters, “ _Harry Potter _”. Harry collapsed on the bed while he opened the letter.__

_Harry_

____

_____Sorry to disappear on such short notice. I had to attend a small event for Frances’ wedding. It’s being held in Australia._  
_Sadly, Father said I would be attending with the family and that you were working ~~despite him not knowing your schedule or actually asking.~~_  
_I’ll see you when I get back, I should only be gone a week._  
_Do expect letters._

_Draco._

__

__Harry had to admit he felt a little better knowing where Draco was and that he hadn’t just left. He put the letter away and went to sleep._ _

__

__Harry woke up with one clear thought. He wasn’t going to be able to fuck Draco for an entire week. He’d spent yesterday horny as hell and hadn’t been able to fuck Draco, quickly resulting in frustration and masturbation. How was he going to survive the week?_ _


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Harry could feel his heart beating heavily against his ribcage. The wall against his back thumped with the sound of spells tearing it to pieces. He turned to Ron beside him and couldn’t help a small laugh erupting from his throat. Ron was quick to return the gesture. It was strange that the two seemed to find this so familiar.

“Wonder why they keep aiming at the wall,” Ron laughed. 

“Yeah, you’d think they would wait for us to come out.” Harry stuck his head around the corner to chance a glance at the criminals behind him. A cloud of dust in his eye confirmed that they had hit the wall beside him. Another centimetre to the right and he would have lost an eye. He shot back behind the wall and looked to Ron. There was a tension at the realisation of what happened that quickly dispersed into laughter between them. 

The two quickly came up with the best possible plan and soon Harry found himself rushing out. The plan wasn’t really a plan, it was a basic outline of a concept, but it would probably work. It was the most they ever really had. Ron was behind him, laying down cover fire while Harry rushed in with a protective spell. Harry missed one spell and it whacked him in the stomach. He lost the breath in his body but managed to charge on. When they were close enough, Harry blasted them back with all his might and all three criminals smashed into a wall behind them. 

Harry and Ron had the criminals in magical handcuffs that would stop them from doing any spells. Harry wasn’t sure exactly how, but their almost-a-plan worked. Harry tried not to think about all the paper work they would have to do. Technically they were meant to refrain from throwing people into walls and stuff. 

Harry would always prefer the actual fighting and taking down criminals over the excessive paperwork that came from it. Especially since Hermione refused to help them most of the time. Well, she usually ended up helping anyway, even though she insisted she wouldn’t. 

By the time Ron and Harry were done with their paperwork it was time to go home. They were packed up, ready to leave, when they received a paper plane from reception. 

_Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, _

_You are required to report to the Head of Criminal Justice._   
_You will receive new assignments._  
_Your appointment is now._

_Abbie, Reception_

Harry groaned and passed the letter over to Ron. 

“We just got back from one, now they’ve got something else for us? Already? Are we the only bloody Aurors around?” Ron groaned. They marched their way up to the office of the Head of Criminal Justice. 

The door was large and intimidating. They probably designed it specifically so people would come in, already too afraid to ask for a raise. 

Ron knocked on the dark wood and the door swung open. A petite young girl opened the door. She ushered them inside to sit in front of the desk at the end of the room. She almost eased Harry’s anxiety about the situation, being so small and cute. Then he looked behind the desk, The Head of Criminal Justice. A woman who was practically the complete opposite of the girl who had opened the door. A large, burly woman with biceps about the size of Harry’s head. A large jagged scar ran over her cheek and Harry couldn’t help but consider that she had defiantly been an Auror once. She wasn’t the head of a department she’d never been in. Harry could appreciate that, even if she was pretty scary. 

“You two must really like paper work,” The woman said. Harry glanced down at the small plaque on her desk. _M. Hall_. 

“Not exactly,” Ron replied. 

“Really?” Hall asked. “Then why do you two do so much? Better yet, why do you two make me go through so much of this shit?” 

Harry felt himself sink down in his chair. Being scolded by an adult was still awful, even when you were an adult. She was a more adult-adult though. Adultier. “Sorry,” Harry offered meekly. “That ain’t helping, Potter,” She grunted. Harry sank a little lower in the seat. “You two have been working together for a couple years now. I think it’s about time you got new partners.” Harry and Ron both shot forward, a thousand objections spilling from them simultaneously. Hall cleared her throat and they both shut up. After a second she pulled a piece of paper from a drawer in the desk. “Weasley, you’re now mentoring a newbie, name’s O’Kelly. Good luck, I hear she’s a handful. Potter, you’re on your own. You’ll mostly be doing little jobs, keep you out of trouble ‘till I find you someone who’ll actually work with you.” 

Ron sat back in his chair and grumbled, “I’ve got no problem working with him.” 

“No,” Hall sighed in response. “No, you don’t. But I do, so suffer in silence.” Ron didn’t say anything else. “Any questions?” The both shook their heads. “Good.” She stopped for a second before sighing. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’ve got nearly no choice in the matter. You’re flooding me with extra work and I can’t deal with it. Plus, you’re both half a slip away from a lawsuit. If any of the guys you’d arrested were rich we’d be drowning in demands for us to get rid of you both completely.” 

Ron sat forward again. “Just give us one last case together! One last run, you know?” 

“No,” Hall replied. “Not happening. Now go.” 

Harry and Ron left the room feeling defeated. They agreed that the best response was to go out and grab a beer. They would hold their own farewell to their partnership. Hermione, of course, came along to comfort them. 

The pub was so warm and inviting. It was almost comforting enough for Harry to actually be open about how upset he was over this development. Instead he and Hermione had to try and comfort Ron and look on the positive side. Hermione was talking mostly about how much less paperwork he’d have to do, while Harry focused more on the fact that they’d be less likely to get sick of each other. 

“I don’t see why I’ve gotta teach the newbie though,” Ron grunted. 

“Obviously Hall thinks you can do it,” Hermione replied. 

“I’m not saying I couldn’t,” Ron replied, probably a little louder than he meant to. They’d had a few beers at this point. “I’m just asking why I gotta.” 

Hermione shrugged, “Someone has to.” Her words were a little slurred together. 

“Doesn’t make sense though,” Ron said. “I ain’t never done anything to make ‘er think I’m good with kids.” 

“She’s not a kid,” Harry replied. “She’s just a newbie.” 

“Same fucking thing,” Ron slurred. “I dunno what’s so bad about me ‘n you as a team.” 

Hermione laughed at this. “She already said it was your paperwork. You make too much of it.” 

Ron shrugged and chugged down the last of his beer. “So what if I do? Do they reckon putting me with someone else is gonna change that?” 

“Well,” Hermione replied, “Obviously Hall does.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry piped up. “Doesn’t matter, because you and me made a great team.” 

“Fuck yeah we did!” 

“Yeah!” Harry held up his drink and then downed the last of it. “But you would’ve gotten sick of me if you had to keep fighting with me.” 

“No, I wouldn’t,” Ron objected. 

Hermione finished her drink, “Maybe we’ll never know if you would have. Doesn’t matter either way. You two aren’t fighting together any more. Time to pass your knowledge on to future generations.” She turned to Harry, “Well, except for you, apparently.” 

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “Except for me.” There was a pit in Harry’s stomach. It took him a second to realise that he was jealous. He wished that he still had a partner, but that wasn’t all. He didn’t just care that his job was getting downgraded either. It was that Ron got to teach a newbie and he didn’t. It felt weird. He wished he’d been able to teach a newbie for some reason. 

Everyone agreed they’d had enough to drink and that they should all go home. Harry made his way back to his apartment, not exactly stumbling but definitely fumbling with his keys. He managed to get into his apartment and was immediately reminded that Draco was still in Australia. _Shit_. A letter was sitting on the windowsill for him. He flopped on the bed and started reading. 

_Harry_

_Australia is by far the worst place I have ever been. It can almost be difficult to tell the difference between muggles and wizards, as they all seem to act just as abhorrently as each other._  
_I hope you’re doing better than me._

_Draco_

Harry grabbed a pen and paper and started scribbling out a reply. His handwriting was already pretty bad, but now that he was tipsy it looked much, much worse. He assumed it probably didn’t really matter. 

_Draco_

_Yeah, okay people suck, but what’s the actual country like? Is it cool? Have you seen anything that’s gonna kill you yet?_  
_Ron and me just got separated, so we’re no longer working together which sUCKs._  
_He’s going to be teaching a newbie, and I’m going to be stuck on shit sweeping because I’m not gonna have a partner for a while. It’s the worst._  
_I miss you._

_Harry._

Harry sent the letter and as he was watching his owl fly away he sort of forgot what he’d written. He remembered the general gist, but he’d forgotten the exact words. He wondered if he’d actually written the ‘miss you’ or not. His stomach flipped at the idea. 

Harry dreamed of Draco reading the letter and laughing at the words “I miss you.” There seemed to be two versions. In one, he had a light blush dusting his pale cheeks and his little snorting laugh made Harry feel light in the head. The other was much more akin to the times he’d heard Draco laughing in school. He had Crabbe and Goyle on either side, both of them pointing and laughing hysterically. 

Harry woke up with a pressure in his temple that was threatening to evolve into a headache. He groaned, hoping it would go away after a cup of coffee. He forced himself out of bed, still feeling a little sluggish when he moved. He stumbled much more than he had last night, mostly due to fatigue this time. 

Work was a chore at the very best and Harry found himself already missing Ron. He didn’t even get a proper job, which meant he was on paperwork duty. The worst part about paperwork was that he was pretty absent mentally for most of it. His brain tended to wander and he caught himself just fiddling with paper instead of reading it several times. His mind had other things to worry about. Namely, Draco. He wondered if he’d come home with a tan. He wondered if Australia was actually as hot as people said. He imagined Draco sweating and the taste of his warm skin filled his imagination. The taste of salt and the smell of his cologne on his skin. Harry’s mouth watered at the thought. He could practically feel Draco pressed against him and hear those sweet moans. 

Harry pushed himself away from his desk and covered his face with his hands. His hands were so much cooler than his face. After a few seconds he managed to stop his rather thoughts from being that inappropriate for work. He uncovered his eyes and went back to work. A paper plane had flown in while he wasn’t paying attention. He opened it to find a letter from Ron. 

_Harry_

_I’ve got no idea what I’m doing. How do you teach kids shit?_  
_Please, you’ve gotta help me_

_Your best pal, who you really, really wanna help right now, Ron_. 

Harry sighed. He’d sort of been expecting this. Ron was a very good Auror and probably a great teacher, he just didn’t think he was. It was always Ron’s own mind that got in the way of him doing well. It was the reason Ron hadn’t done a lot of the teaching when they’d started up DA. Harry wrote out a reply about how many criminals they’d caught, making sure to include every single time Harry hadn’t been able to do anything. He also made sure to remind him that, while she was a newbie, she wasn’t a child and would’ve had to have passed her OWLs with at least a decent grade. 

The end of the working day arrived and Harry practically sprinted out. He found the letter he’d been waiting for and a childish giddiness bubbled up inside him. He stopped for a second, wondering why the hell he was so excited over what was probably just a few sentences. Then he remembered that whole argument about whether or not he loved Draco. He hadn’t said and didn’t intend to, at least not in any capacity that Draco could actually hear. He shook all the thoughts off and opened the letter. 

_Harry_

_Australia is not cool. It is very, very hot. I saw a shoe melted into the tar on the road. Supposedly it has been there for three summers. I hate it. I’m using magic so that I don’t have visible sweat patches and it’s disgusting._  
_I’m sorry to hear about you and Weasley, but I assume there’s a reason the two of you were separated?_  
_I miss you too_. 

_Draco._

Four words stood out to Harry immediately. He felt his breathing stop for a second staring at those four words and everything they meant. Not only had Harry sent the ‘I miss you’ that he’d been unsure of, but Draco had returned his feelings. He could just about melt, it was so sweet. Maybe he’d go melt into the road for three summers. Harry quickly made his reply. _Draco_

_Please tell me you’re at least seeing some really cool stuff down there_?   
_Supposedly, me and Ron made too much paperwork for everyone so we got split up_  
_Actually, not having you around is really bad for me at the moment. It turns out I can’t stop think about you, specifically in ways I shouldn’t while at work._

_Harry_

Harry considered not writing that last line. He read over it a few times but decided it would be fine. Worst case scenario, Draco dumped him and he lived alone forever pinning over the guy he’d met in school. Best case scenario, Draco would grab a computer and use Facebook to send nudes. The most likely scenario was that Draco would tell him to focus at work and get flustered if anyone asked what Harry had said. It seemed like a pretty good bet to Harry who sent it without another thought. 

Harry was sitting up and quietly stressing about the letter he’d sent when an owl returned with a reply. He checked the time and it was well past midnight. He supposed it would have been some time in the day for Draco. Technically he should go to bed, but he figured he would read the letter first. 

_Harry_

_I’m not seeing an abundance of “cool stuff” but I have seen plenty of men with their shirts off._  
_Of course you and Weasley would make excessive paperwork. It seems exactly like what I might expect from you. It seems like a perfectly good reason to split you two._  
_When you say you can’t stop thinking about me in ways you “shouldn’t while at work”, what exactly does that mean?_

_Draco_

Harry felt a little grin tug at the corners of his mouth at the last question. He decided he was going to reply immediately; sleep and propriety be damned. 

_Draco_

_What I mean is I keep thinking about you pressed up against me. I can almost feel your skin on mine. I can almost taste your lips and the sweat on your neck. I can almost feel the way your hands felt in my hair. I can almost feel you tugging my hair and arching your back._  
_What I mean is, you make working really fucking difficult because I’m constantly hard and thinking about you._

_Harry._

He sent that, thinking about the face Draco would probably make when he opened it. He also wondered how long it would take the owl to get all the way to Australia. Maybe there was some sort of swapping system. He wasn’t sure, but he passed out thinking about it. 

The next morning, another letter was on Harry’s windowsill. Without even thinking about it, he picked it up and opened it. 

_Harry_

_Thank you for clearing that up._  
_I’ve been thinking about you too. I’ve been practicing so that hopefully when I get back I can fit you inside me. I always think of what you’re going to sound like when we finally go all the way._  
_I hope you have fun thinking about that while you’re at work._

_Draco_

“ _Holy Shit_ ,” Harry thought to himself. He put the letter away for safe keeping and got up to go to work. 

It was a shit day. Harry couldn’t keep his mind focused on what was in front of him. He just kept thinking of Draco with his fingers in his ass and, better yet, Harry being inside him. It made him shudder just to think about it.


End file.
